


Substitute Light

by mirror_cannibal



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Blindness, Comforting, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Doubt, Emotional Hurt, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kissing, Living Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Nervousness, Nightmares, Nursing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Self-Doubt, Sleeping Together, Sweet, Tension, more panic attacks oml, these tags are literally all the same omg, this fic goes on for way too long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 36,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7845679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirror_cannibal/pseuds/mirror_cannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Oikawa thinks Iwaizumi's life is in danger, he moves purely on instinct to protect him. How will this lead to his own downfall? When Oikawa gets a concussion and temporarily loses his sight, he's terrified to go on living in his new darkened world of his. Will he be able to find a substitute light to keep him on track until he gets his sight back? Will he still need that light even after he can see again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this is, I was listening to "Grenade" by Bruno Mars and I just kinda thought of this, I might turn it into something though :)

Oikawa opened his eyes reluctantly, as lifting the heavy lids took more effort than he'd ever thought possible for such a small task. "…kawa? Oikawa? Oikawa!" The voices gradually registered in his mind, and he was aware of bright spots and shapes moving above him as well as the hard surface pressed against his back. _Am I…on the floor? What happened?_

One voice rose above the rest. "Shittykawa, you dumbass!" Oikawa felt a hand grip his shoulder, blinking slowly until he could see the hazy outline of Iwaizumi glaring down at him. _He looks mad. I wonder what I did this time. Wait…weren't we playing a practice match…?_

Slowly, recent memories flashed in his mind. _It was a serve from the other team…really fast…it was going right for Iwa-chan._ Oikawa blinked a few more times until Iwaizumi's image became clear, until he could see the smallest details of his face. _He seems fine. Wait, didn't I…? I jumped in front of him?_ He could remember panic taking control of his body, all rational thought disappearing. _I was really afraid…Iwa-chan was going to get hurt._

"Iwa…chan?" Oikawa mumbled as Iwaizumi gripped his shoulder, helping him sit up. _My head's pounding…I think it might split in half._

"Why would you do that, dumbass?" Iwaizumi asked softly, seeming more worried than angry. There were voices in the background, frantic teammates, the coach yelling for an ambulance. But Iwaizumi's voice rose above the other noises, and Oikawa latched onto the calmness and stability of his words.

"I don't…know," Oikawa screwed his eyes shut with a painful sound as all the lights in the gym suddenly flared, burning into his brain. He didn't realize that his hand was on Iwaizumi's shoulder, gripping his friend tightly like he was a lifeline.

"Oh, God…" Iwaizumi breathed, "Oikawa, look at me. Look at me. _Tooru_." Oikawa reluctantly opened his eyes, for some reason unable to focus his gaze on the boy right in front of him. "I think you have a concussion." Oikawa felt the tremor in Iwaizumi's words, and longed for that calm voice again. _Stop worrying about me. It hurts me._

"St-Stop—" Oikawa tried to form words out of his thoughts, but his voice wasn't working right and he couldn't understand why. The fog in his brain was frustrating, and he felt an irrational anger begin to build up in his chest. _Why can't I say what I'm trying to say?_

"Stop what? Oikawa?" Iwaizumi shook his shoulder, which annoyed the brunet even more, as it prevented him from closing his eyes again. "Oikawa! Stay awake, an ambulance will be here soon, ok?"

Suddenly a wave of nausea passed through Oikawa, and he jerked forward, fighting to hold back vomit. Iwaizumi's hand was gripping Oikawa's now, his other hand supporting his back. "N-Nuh…" Oikawa groaned, feeling the pounding in his head increase.

Sirens. In the distance. Gradually getting louder. Oikawa found himself making random observations in his head. Person. In front of him. Holding him. No, that's Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan deserves more than a simple label like 'person'. Lights. They weren't that bright before, were they? _Burning into my eyes._ Floor. Shiny. Bright. Too bright. Spinning. Spinning quickly. Spin, spin, spin…

Darkness. _That's new._ It crept in on his vision, shrouding the edges. It was weird and fuzzy and reminded him of the foggy feeling in his head. _That black fuzz is in my head,_ he thought. _I don't want it there. Iwa-chan, get it out._ The sirens were really loud now. Car—no, ambulance—pulling to a stop outside the gym.

_Iwa-chan's saying something. Say it later, Iwa-chan, I'm tired now. Stop shaking me. Leave me alone already._ The noises didn't really stop all at once, but they kind of faded in and out. Sometimes his brain picked them up and decided to translate, sometimes it ignored the noise altogether.

There were more people, which annoyed Oikawa even more. _Just let me be!_ There was a stretcher, more bright lights flashing in his face, more people crowding in and being loud. _Don't they know this hurts my ears? Stop talking so loudly. If they're doctors, don't they know to be quiet?_ Iwaizumi was still there, which calmed Oikawa down a bit. His fingers were tight around Oikawa's, keeping him grounded enough to respond with a weak squeeze every so often.

_Wait, I didn't mean what I said before. I don't want to be alone. Not with them. Iwa-chan, come with me._ Oikawa realized that none of what he was thinking was actually making it past his mouth, and another surge of anger and frustration rose up in him. Iwaizumi's outline was becoming fuzzier, and it dawned on Oikawa that he was being moved, rising up with the stretcher and moving away from Iwaizumi.

Oikawa fixed his gaze on the ceiling, widening his eyes to prevent the black fuzz from overtaking his vision. Of course, it did nothing to stop its progress, and it wasn't long until he gave up, closing his eyes and shutting himself off from the outside world.

  


* * *

  


Oikawa knew something was wrong the second he regained his consciousness. There was a strange feeling that something was missing, something he had had his whole life. _What is it…?_ He blinked open his eyes slowly.

_Blink._ There were soft beeping noises all around him. _Blink._ He's probably in the hospital. _Blink._ Iwa-chan was probably incredibly angry with him. _Blink._ Hopefully he'll be forgiven. _Blink._ He can picture the hospital room—white and clean, with that overly familiar but slightly sickening smell of latex and linen. _Blink._ Wait…picture it? But he can't…

_Am I blind?_

Sudden panic seized his chest. He raised his head from the pillow, his muscles screaming at the effort. "Hey!" he tried to yell out, his voice raspy. His hands found rails on either side of the bed and he gripped them, his own breathing overly loud in his own ears. The machines began to beep faster and faster, the constant noises at his ear making him more nervous. There were footsteps outside, someone yelling, _Doctor!_

There were more footsteps and then a presence beside Oikawa, next to the bed, a deep voice speaking slowly and deliberately. "Oikawa Tooru." Oikawa started slightly, turning nervously to face the direction the voice was coming from. The voice went on. "I am your doctor. You are currently in a hospital. You were administered to this hospital four days ago after an accident related to volleyball. You have a concussion and this is the first time you've woken up in the four days you've been here. Do you understand?"

Oikawa felt a sting in his eyes. "I…" he whispered, blinking as a single tear crawled down his cheek. "I can't see."

"Vision problems are fairly common in head injuries," the doctor's voice was surprisingly calming in its authority. "We will have to run some tests before we can determine whether or not you may regain your sight. If you do have a chance of seeing again, your sight still may not return for a few months...maybe even longer."

"Will I…" Oikawa swallowed, cleared his throat, and started again. "Will I ever be able to play volleyball again?"

He started as a hand touched his arm gently, and the doctor spoke again. "That all depends on the outcome of the tests. As I said, we don't yet know the extent of the damage to your vision."

Oikawa didn't really have anything else to say, but he wanted the doctor to stay with him. He wanted the doctor to keep talking in that smooth, constant voice that told him _I'm in charge,_ which was somehow comforting. _If he's in charge, he can make me better._ He didn't want the doctor to leave, to leave Oikawa alone in the room that was dark only to him, with the beeping machines and crushing loneliness.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Your immediate family is out of the country, correct?"

"Yes," Oikawa whispered, dreading the moment that the doctor's touch would disappear.

"Is there anyone you would like me to contact for you?"

"Yes." _Iwa-chan._ It was the first thing that came to his mind. Iwaizumi had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. He wouldn't rather have anyone else at his side right now.

"Do you know his or her contact information?"

"Yes."

  


* * *

  


The hospital room was empty. The doctor had left a while ago, after calling Iwaizumi for Oikawa. He hadn't let Oikawa talk on the phone, saying he needed to rest until the visit (as not having a proper meal in four days obviously led to a major decline of Oikawa's energy) and that Iwaizumi would be there soon.

Oikawa was scared. He was more scared than he'd ever been in his life. The darkness that masked his eyes was pressing down on him, suffocating him. There was no escaping it. He remembered being a little kid, afraid of the dark. _I can't sleep,_ a random memory surfaced in his mind, his own young voice crying out. _If I close my eyes it's all dark and scary._

Oikawa bit his lip nervously, his fingers tangling themselves in the hospital sheets. _Now it's all dark and scary even when my eyes are open._ He jumped when there was a soft knock on the door. "Oikawa?" he heard a familiar voice.

"Iwa-chan?" Oikawa turned towards the sound of approaching footsteps, wincing at the squeal of a chair being pulled across the floor, next to the bed.

"Hey, Shittykawa," Iwaizumi spoke softly, "It's been a while. You look pretty shaken up. How's the concussion? Hey—why are you crying?" Oikawa couldn't help the hot tears that began to streak down his face.

"I-I—" Oikawa gasped for air, feeling the panic setting in again. _I can't see him, I can't see Iwa-chan's face…_ Fingers gripped his and he gripped tightly back, holding on for dear life, struggling to orient himself. _Iwa-chan's here…he's right here, he's touching me, I'm alright…_ "Iwa-chan," Oikawa sniffed, feeling a weight on the bed as Iwaizumi shifted from the chair to the edge of the mattress, holding Oikawa's hand in both of his.

"What's wrong?" Iwaizumi asked, sounding scared for Oikawa as well as confused. "It's just a concussion, right? Does it hurt?"

Oikawa shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and blinking them open as if trying to deny the fact all he could see was blackness. "I—Iwa-chan, I can't—" the tears tasted salty, and Oikawa's shoulders were shaking badly. He took comfort in the feeling of Iwaizumi's hands around his, and took a deep breath. "—see. Can't—see, Iwa-chan, I can't see!"

He could feel Iwaizumi's shock in the way the muscles of his hands went rigid, could hear the sharp intake of breath. "Oh, my God," he breathed, "I'm so sorry, Oikawa, this is all my fault…" Oikawa wanted to protest, to say it wasn't his fault, it was Oikawa's fault for jumping out without thinking, moving purely on the fear that something would happen to his Iwa-chan…but all he could do was let the sobs wrack his body as the nervous heat rose up in his chest.

It sounded like Iwaizumi wanted to say more, but evidently he knew—he of all people knew—that words wouldn't help Oikawa Tooru. Oikawa melted into Iwaizumi's arms as he was embraced, feeling the comforting warmth of another body. _Iwa-chan's body._

He felt the fabric of Iwaizumi's shirt on his face, gradually getting damper with his tears. Rather than reciprocate the hug, Oikawa snuggled into it, letting Iwaizumi hold him protectively. _I'm safe here, with Iwa-chan. I'm safe now._ That embrace meant more to Oikawa than any words ever could.

"I'm sorry," Iwaizumi whispered softly, his own voice choked with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Oikawa could only shake his head, pleading softly between sobs, begging Iwaizumi to stop apologizing. He kept going anyway, repeating _I'm sorry_ under his breath over and over again.

  


* * *

  


A nurse with a clipboard in hand walked down the hall. _Room…302. Here._ Hearing soft sobs and gentle murmurs from inside, she hesitated at the entrance. _Visiting hours are over…_ she thought, then shook her head, flipping a few pages on the clipboard. _He just woke up today…I'll give him some more time with his visitor._ She hung the clipboard on the inside of the door, turning to walk down the other hall. On the top of the clipboard lay a page outlining the tests the patient would be undergoing over the next few days—the tests that would determine whether he had a chance at getting his eyesight back or not.


	2. Strength

_Iwa-chan's here again._ It had been a week, and Oikawa couldn't get used to the horrible weakness that plagued him. He found himself terrified by every sound, every unfamiliar voice he heard. The first time one of the nurses had tried to move him to another room for a brain scan, he'd come pretty damn close to having a full-on panic attack.

It wasn't so bad, he told himself constantly, keeping up the hope that his eyesight would come back. Every time he panicked or was uncomfortable, the nurses knew how to comfort him. They would touch his arm, his hand, speak in low voices to let him know he was safe. _I don't want their comfort. I want Iwa-chan._ He knew it was selfish of him to constantly ask for his friend, ask to call him, to hear his voice.

Iwaizumi didn't seem to mind, though. Even when Oikawa called in the middle of a school day, Iwaizumi would pick up on the first ring. Even during times Oikawa knew he was at volleyball practice, Iwaizumi somehow had his phone on him. He always listened through Oikawa's nervous breakdowns and always replied slowly and calmly, telling him things like _Breathe_ and _You're fine._ Somehow Oikawa always believed him, was always able to stop crying by the end of the call.

Iwaizumi also visited. A lot. Every single day, close to the end of visiting hours (Oikawa would never forgive him if he skipped practice to visit him) but earlier on days he didn't have anything, Iwaizumi was always there—there until someone had to kick him out. Oikawa hated being so needy about his friend, but was too scared and alone to protest when Iwaizumi spent his whole weekend with him.

Iwaizumi was there now. It had been a week. But Iwaizumi was there, sitting on the bed next to Oikawa, as he was every day. "The team wants to visit you," his calm voice soothed Oikawa's heart, which seemed to beat wildly every few seconds as the panic rose and fall constantly in the back of his head. "I told them I'd ask you first."

"No," Oikawa immediately said, reaching out a hand and feeling Iwaizumi grasp it tightly. "I'm too weak. They shouldn't see their captain like this."

"How about their friend?" Even though Oikawa couldn't see his face, he could picture the concerned look Iwaizumi was giving him. Oikawa didn't register the sting in his eyes until he felt a single tear's wetness against his cheek. "Hey—don't cry," Iwaizumi said softly, but Oikawa could hear the thickness of his voice and knew that he was fighting back tears as well.

"No," Oikawa's voice was a whisper now. He felt Iwaizumi's hesitation, the quick breath he took as if he was about to speak and the slow exhale when he decided not to. "Iwa-chan," Oikawa leaned back against the pillow, "How's the team doing?"

Iwaizumi knew what Oikawa meant. "They're improving at a surprising pace. They all want to make up for the fact that you're not there…they miss you, Oikawa. And not just as a captain."

Oikawa glanced blankly ahead, hating the way Iwaizumi's breath caught every time that blank stare was turned on him. He closed his eyes, although it made no difference to him anyway. "I hate it," he whispered, "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it."

"Shh," Iwaizumi gently squeezed his hand, and Oikawa appreciated the fact that Iwaizumi had never once tried to escape the strangling death grip that was Oikawa's. "I know. It's like a weakness to you, isn't it. You see it as a weakness." It certainly wasn't a question, but Oikawa nodded anyway. "It's not. It's not, Oikawa, you just think it is because you've been spending your whole life trying to get as strong as possible. It's just a minor setback, is all. I know you're going to be fine."

Oikawa couldn't help the sigh from escaping his lips, couldn't control the bitter expression that crossed his face. "I don't know," he murmured, "I want to hope, but…I just don't know." _I don't want to be disappointed when they tell me I'll never see again_.

Iwaizumi seemed to know exactly what Oikawa was trying to say. "I promise you're going to be ok. You know what, I know for a fact that you're going to be ok. Know why?" Oikawa felt his eyes blink open without even realizing he was doing it, a natural reaction as he tried to hang on every one of Iwaizumi's words. "You're the strongest man I've ever met. You've always fought to improve, even when you couldn't possibly get any better. Even if…even if this turns to the worst case scenario—which it won't, but just in case—I know you, you of all people, will be able to get through it just fine."

Oikawa sniffed, hating the feeling of constriction in his throat, hating the pain in his eyes, hating the tears he couldn't stop. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, "For being so weak…I can't even hold my tears back anymore." He felt Iwaizumi's fingers in his hair, pulling him forward to lean against his friend's chest. Oikawa breathed slowly, trying to slow his heartbeat to match Iwaizumi's. "Thank you, Iwa-chan." He didn't know what exactly he was thanking him for, but the words fell from his lips naturally. _Everything. Thank you for everything, Iwa-chan._

Iwaizumi chuckled lightly, and Oikawa loved the way his chest rose and fell with his laughter. "Don't say 'thank you,' Shittykawa," he snickered, "It sounds weird coming from you." Oikawa smiled against Iwaizumi and leaned into him, gaining comfort from the way his fingers twisted around Oikawa's hair.

"Iwa-chan," he mumbled, "Do you forgive me?" Iwaizumi had always been so angry every time Oikawa had hurt himself. Despite whatever pain he was in, Iwaizumi would always give the taller brunet a slap across the face or a punch in the gut. Now, however, he hadn't acted angry once. Just…sad. Guilty. It was almost more painful to Oikawa than a straight-up smack on the head.

Iwaizumi sighed. "I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why I haven't punched you yet." Oikawa almost laughed—almost, the smile right there on his face—but the sound never came out. "Well, there's actually two reasons. One, you did technically do this to protect me, which I take the blame for." Before Oikawa could protest, Iwaizumi forged on, "Two, I'm waiting until you get your sight back. It'll give you something to look forward to."

Oikawa felt the smile fade from his face. "You're so sure I'll be able to see again," he said, his voice soft and barely above a whisper. "You're going to get disappointed, too. Stop hoping so much."

Iwaizumi tugged lightly at Oikawa's hair, and Oikawa knew he was avoiding the question he should've asked, but couldn't. _Typical Iwa-chan, so soft-hearted. I'm not_ that _weak._ Oikawa spoke again, answering what Iwaizumi couldn't ask. "The test results should be in about a week from now." Somehow, saying this out loud was like conquering a mountain. _A week. Another week. 7 days. That's when I'll know. I'm strong. I can face this. I have Iwa-chan here. I'm strong._

"You're going to be fine." It was a statement, confident and unwavering. Oikawa leaned into Iwaizumi, feeling his steady breathing and heartbeat as he said, "I know you're going to be fine. I know it."

There was a soft knock at the door. "I'm sorry, sir…visiting hours ended over twenty minutes ago. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Right." Iwaizumi reluctantly stood, but Oikawa still held onto his hand desperately.

"Wait," the brunet pleaded, "Can't he stay a little longer?"

There was a sigh at the doorway. "I'm sorry, but it's not allowed. Please, make your way to the front desk and—"

"Please!" Oikawa held onto Iwaizumi's hand, the fear returning. The fear of being alone, alone in his own little dark world, with nothing to rely on but the beep of machines in his ear and the occasional nurse checking on him. "I don't want…I can't…"

Iwaizumi squeezed Oikawa's hand, gently loosening his fingers one by one. "You're fine, Oikawa," he said gently, "You're strong, remember? You can do this."

"I don't want to be strong," Oikawa whispered, the words automatically falling from his mouth. _If I'm strong, I don't need Iwa-chan. If I don't need Iwa-chan, I'm alone. I don't want to be alone._

"I'll be back, Oikawa," Iwaizumi spoke softly, pulling Oikawa's hand from his and laying it gently back onto the taller brunet's lap. "I'll always come back." His footsteps stopped at the doorway, hesitating before quickly fading away down the hall. The nurse still stood there.

"I'm sorry again, but it's the rules," she spoke hesitantly, "Would you like someone to stay with you until you fall asleep?" Oikawa was tempted, tempted to have anyone just sit there, sit silently next to his bed, just enough so that he could hear their breathing and know he was not alone. _But…_

"No," he whispered, clenching his fists, "I'm strong."

_Iwa-chan says so._


	3. Smile

His vision was still a mystery. The tests were inconclusive, which made Oikawa more nervous than ever. "I'd rather have them tell me yes or no—even if it's the answer I don't want, I'd rather know either way," he told Iwaizumi during one of his visits. Iwaizumi had opened the window, and Oikawa could smell the fresh air for the first time in a long time.

"Do you want to stand by the window?" Iwaizumi asked, and Oikawa was hesitant. He did, but…he wasn't yet comfortable walking on his own yet. He still felt so scared. _But I can't see where I'm going,_ he thought, his mind building up the terror of taking a step in total darkness—uncharted territory. _But it's just a hospital room,_ he thought again, _I can picture it. I know what it looks like. And Iwa-chan's here._

"Yeah," Oikawa said, feeling Iwaizumi grab his hand as he tossed his own legs over the side of the bed, resting his feet against the floor. He gripped Iwaizumi's forearm as he rose, his legs weak from not standing on them for so long. He tried to remember how his muscles felt when they were working properly. When they were pushed to the max. Straining. Burning. But in a good way.

Now they just felt weak. Limp and weak.

"I want to run," Oikawa sighed suddenly, the words surprising even himself. He could somehow feel the warmth of Iwaizumi's smile, heard it clearly in his voice when he spoke.

"I know," he said, "But let's start with walking, ok?"

One foot first. Then the other. Every step was hesitant, and Oikawa hated it. _I want to know where I'm going. I want to see it. I want to stop doubting every little move I make. I want to…feel confident again._ Iwaizumi spoke again, keeping up the conversation as he led Oikawa to the window. "Have you been eating everything they give you?"

Oikawa smiled, his fingers tightening around Iwaizumi's forearm. "Yeah, yeah…"

Iwaizumi's muscles tensed up under Oikawa's touch. "That doesn't sound very convincing…You have to take care of yourself, especially right now. Dumbass." Oikawa snorted slightly. "If you don't eat, I swear I'll hit you."

"That's so mean, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa felt the familiarity returning, the practiced banters between them.

"Don't worry, though," Iwaizumi said, "I did say I wouldn't hit you until you got your sight back."

"You really think it's possible, don't you."

"I do. You should, too." He stopped walking, and Oikawa immediately froze beside him. "The window is right in front of us. Here." Iwaizumi pried one of Oikawa's hands off his arm, guiding it forward until his fingertips tentatively touched the windowsill.

"What's it look like? Outside?" Oikawa asked enviously, breathing in the fresh air, feeling it push his messy hair back from his face.

"It's nice," Iwaizumi said, moving Oikawa's other hand to the windowsill so that he was standing on his own. There was a slight thrill of panic in the back of his mind, but he took a deep breath and felt the breeze and knew he was safe, because Iwaizumi's presence was still next to him, and he was talking with that smooth, constant voice, and he would never leave him.

"You're on the third floor," Iwaizumi went on, "Of a four-story hospital. Your room is at the back, and the window faces the back parking lot. Y'know, where the staff parks. There's a few trees up against the back of the building, and if you reach out enough you could touch the leaves. Beyond the parking lot, it's all green grass up until another line of trees. The sky is blue beyond that, with maybe a few clouds. The sun's bright today."

Oikawa sighed as a comfortable silence fell over them, moving his hands along the windowsill, feeling to the corners and back to the middle. "You really think I'll be able to see it again?" he asked quietly, almost hoping the breeze would carry his words away—but it didn't, and Iwaizumi answered calmly, the same way he always did.

"I know you will, Oikawa. I know."

Oikawa blinked. Blinked again. Blackness. Still blackness. _Why can't I see?_ There was an incredible _want_ in his mind, the _need_ to stop being so _weak_ and just _open his eyes_ without disappointment. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Oikawa Tooru?" It was the doctor's voice. Oikawa started, turning slightly to aim his voice at the doorway.

"Yes?" It came out wrong, too shaky and strange, and he wasn't used to hearing his own voice sound so scared. It scared him even more.

"I'm sorry to disturb you during visiting hours, but we thought you'd want to know as soon as possible—and that your friend might like to know as well. We have the test results, if you would like them."

Panic. It pumped through his veins, freezing him. Iwaizumi's hand was on his shoulder, steadying him. "You're trembling," Iwaizumi murmured, "It's ok. Calm down. Remember what I said?"

Oikawa took a deep breath. "Doctor…Will I be able to see again?"

The doctor hesitated. _Oh, God._ "Well," he spoke slowly, and Oikawa hated the undertone of doubt in the doctor's authoritative voice. "It's not really as simple as that…You see, the concussion—"

"Please," Oikawa interrupted, feeling Iwaizumi's grip on his shoulder tighten as his body began to tremble more violently. "Just…Will I?"

"…We think you have a chance, yes." Oikawa felt the breath of excitement rush into his chest, Iwaizumi's presence beside him staying as calm as it was before.

"A chance?" Iwaizumi asked softly, as if dreading the _"but"_ that they both knew the doctor would say.

The doctor sighed. "Your complete vision loss won't last. We're estimating about another week until you start to regain your sight. Be aware that it will come back slowly. However, there is the possibility that when you do regain your sight, you won't regain all of it."

"W-What do you mean?" Oikawa stammered slightly. _Will I ever be able to play volleyball again?_

"Well," the doctor said, "One of the most common types of vision loss after a head injury is a type of visual field loss. Even if you can see again, there's a chance—actually, a very high chance—that you may be missing some of your visual field. This just means you'll have to look around more, and we have exercises to teach you how to broaden your visual field if this does happen. In your case, your full loss of sight after the concussion was a rare occurrence, especially since it's not permanent. That's why we think you might have a higher chance of never fully regaining your sight."

"It's fine," Iwaizumi said, squeezing Oikawa's shoulder. "You'll be able to see, right? That's all that matters. If there's exercises to help you deal, you can do them. Right, Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi's confidence in him made his heart race—but not in a panicky way. "Right," he whispered, feeling suddenly happier than he had in days. "One more week…"

The doctor spoke up again. "Also, I would like to inform you that at this time, you are no longer required to stay in the hospital. You can go home and adjust at your own pace—we only ask that you come back regularly for tests and check-ups. If you would like to stay, or feel more comfortable here, you are more than welcome to."

Oikawa hesitated. He didn't want to stay in the hospital any longer (he hated the smell of the place—too clean and formal) but the thought of trying to make his way through his home, all the furniture in the way, all the stuff on the counters and tabletops…He didn't really want to feel unsafe in his home. His home was specifically his safe place. He wasn't quite sure why he felt that way.

"You don't have to decide now," the doctor said, "Just think about it. I'll be back near the end of visiting hours, but you don't have to give me your decision today. I'll leave you now." His footsteps quickly faded, making their way down the hall.

"Hey," Iwaizumi murmured. "It's ok. You can stay at my place; I'll take care of you until you get your sight back." Oikawa smiled, felt the laugh at his lips. _When's the last time I actually laughed?_ he wondered idly.

"Aw, Iwa-chan's so nice all of a sudden. This isn't because you still blame yourself, is it?"

Iwaizumi only smiled in response. _Wait…I can feel his smile._ It was like an embodiment of just warmth, shining on him. "Iwa-chan, are you smiling?" Oikawa asked impulsively.

The warmth was gone. "Yeah, I was," he said, surprise in his voice. "How did you…?"

Oikawa stared ahead. Stared at nothing. _Everything._ Blackness. _A hospital room._ His mind knew it was there, his eyes had no idea. "I just know, Iwa-chan," the words tumbled from his lips unexpectedly. "I could feel it."

Iwaizumi was silent for a few moments, then he spoke again. "I was serious, you know. I'll take care of you until you can see again. You know I will."

"Just like you always did," Oikawa smiled, remembering all the times Iwaizumi would yell at him and beat him up for overworking himself but then sit with him, icing and wrapping whatever part of his body he'd injured that time.

"So what do you want to tell the doctor, when he comes back? Staying at this hospital costs more money that you think, you know."

"Hm. I don't like the smell here."

"So that means…?"

"I'm outta here. As long as I've got my best friend Iwa-chan taking care of me, I know I'll have even better care!"

Iwaizumi snorted. "Quit it with that fake smile already. I get it. You accept my offer." Oikawa reached a hand out to the side, connecting with Iwaizumi's arm and holding it tightly, sliding his hand down to encircle his friend's wrist.

"Thank you," Oikawa whispered, squeezing his arm.

Iwaizumi didn't reply, didn't make a joke like last time.

But Oikawa could feel his smile.


	4. Promises

The walk from his hospital room to the elevator wasn't very far. Neither was the walk from the elevator to the exit. Or the walk from the exit to Iwaizumi's house. But for Oikawa, every step was like a descent into the unknown. He could picture the hospital halls in his head, the bright lights eagerly showing the way… _One more week. Then I can see. One more week._ He clung onto Iwaizumi's arm for dear life.

Iwaizumi had never been the type to talk too much, or the touchy-feely type. However, after Oikawa's concussion, Iwaizumi took every opportunity to say something, anything, to hold Oikawa's hand or touch his arm or do anything he could to tell him he wasn't alone, he was safe. Oikawa would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't unnerved by the sudden change of behavior in his friend, but he knew Iwaizumi was doing it for him. And that made Oikawa feel a lot better.

"Come on," Iwaizumi chuckled at Oikawa's death grip on his arm. "Let's go home." _Let's go home._ The words echoed through Oikawa's head as Iwaizumi led him down the sidewalk, which was—thankfully—devoid of any overly large cracks or misalignments. _Let's go home._ Suddenly the thought of living with his best friend made him feel warm inside—warm and safe and protected.

Iwaizumi took a breath. "Well, how do you feel? Finally getting to walk around a bit, I mean."

"It feels…normal," Oikawa said, "It's still scary, but…I have a good feeling, like things are gonna be normal again soon. Iwa-chan?"

"Hm?" Oikawa counted the seconds in his mind, trying to create a mental picture of where they were as they made their way down the street. _His house is only a few blocks away, on the same street as mine._

"I really think I'm going to be ok."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I know." Iwaizumi spoke with definitive finality, successfully creating that warm feeling in Oikawa's chest. _His confidence is contagious,_ Oikawa laughed in his head. "Oh, yeah," Iwaizumi said, "I just remembered. The team really wanted to see how you were doing. I haven't updated them on your condition yet, I thought you should. I was thinking of inviting them over to the place sometime soon."

Oikawa just smiled, taking one hand off Iwaizumi's arm and pushing his hair back from his face. _When's the last time I washed my hair?_ He wondered idly, twisting a lock between his fingers. "Hey, Iwa-chan?"

"Yeah, Shittykawa?" Oikawa almost— _almost_ —laughed at that. With the old nickname back in play, it really seemed like things would be completely normal soon. Then this whole nightmarish world of blackness would be over.

"How do I look?" Oikawa tilted his head to turn his blank stare on Iwaizumi. There was a pause, a hesitation—then Iwaizumi laughed.

"As usual—like shit." _He hesitated. He knew what I was really asking. He just avoided the question._

"Really," Oikawa tentatively went on, figuring if he didn't spell it out for him Iwaizumi would never mention anything. "Do I look…normal?"

Iwaizumi sighed. "You mean, 'Do I look blind?' What do you want me to say?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know. You are blind. Well, temporarily blind. So, since I know that, yes, you look blind to me."

"But, do I—?"

"Gah, shut up already, Shittykawa!" Iwaizumi growled. "Stop acting so self-conscious. It's unlike you. Honestly, it's creeping me out."

"Sorry," Oikawa muttered, turning his head back so that he wouldn't have to strain his neck. Iwaizumi made an annoyed sound under his breath.

"Stop apologizing, that's even less like you!" Iwaizumi sighed again. _He sighs a lot,_ Oikawa noted blankly, paying much more attention to Iwaizumi's speaking and breathing than he ever had before.

"Hey, Iwa-chan?"

"Hm?"

Oikawa already knew the scenery of where they were, had been counting his steps and the turns they made enough to know what street they were on. But when he asked the question, it had a different meaning. "What does it look like outside?"

He felt that warmth again, like there was a mini sun walking next to him. "Just wait and see for yourself, Oikawa." When Iwaizumi spoke, Oikawa grinned to himself. He could hear it in his friend's voice. _Iwa-chan's smiling again._ "We're here," Iwaizumi said unnecessarily, since Oikawa recognized the slight sloping corner of the sidewalk right before Iwaizumi's house.

"I feel like a dog you're walking, Iwa-chan," Oikawa teased, smiling a little. Iwaizumi laughed back.

"What, are you asking for a pet name or something?" he snickered, opening his front door. Oikawa hesitated, nudging his foot forward until he touched the little step before the entrance.

"You good?" Iwaizumi asked uncertainly, as if not sure how he should help.

"Um," Oikawa tightened his grip on Iwaizumi's arm as he lifted his foot onto the step. "Yeah, I'm good." He clung tighter to Iwaizumi as the other boy led him down the hall. He knew Iwaizumi's house well enough to probably make his way through, but when give the option of blindly staggering down the hall and being led by Iwaizumi, the choice was obvious.

After a nerve-wracking journey, Oikawa finally collapsed on Iwaizumi's couch. "Agh," he sighed, "That was the most exhausting thing I've ever been through." Iwaizumi chuckled, sitting beside him with a relieved breath.

"Same. I think my arm is permanently bruised now."

Oikawa smiled, leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. "You probably deserved it," he mumbled, though he wasn't really sure what he meant by that.

There was a slight silence between them, then Iwaizumi spoke again. "I never actually thanked you, you know."

"Thanked me? What for?" Oikawa tilted his head towards Iwaizumi but kept his eyes closed, too tired to open them and accepting the fact that there was no difference either way.

"Well, you know…you _did_ end up this way because of me."

Oikawa sighed in frustration. "This again? Geez, Iwa-chan, I already told you it was my own—"

"I know," Iwaizumi interrupted. "I know, I just…I don't know. Just let me thank you, if only once."

"Fine," Oikawa relented, waving a hand airily. "Have your fun. But just once."

"Ok," Iwaizumi took a breath, "Thank you, Oikawa."

"Urgh!" Oikawa stuck his tongue out, making a disgusted face. "That felt so weird, Iwa-chan! You're rarely this nice to begin with, that 'thank you' was just over the top! I'd almost prefer you to hit me again."

"Not until you can see again, remember?" Iwaizumi reminded him, and Oikawa flinched when he felt Iwaizumi pinch his nose teasingly. Oikawa twisted his head away to escape his friend's grasp, only protesting half-heartedly. "So, what do you think about what I said before?" Iwaizumi asked, "About inviting the team over? They were really worried about you, you know. They really want to see how you're doing."

"I want to be able to see at least a little bit first," Oikawa mused, "How much do they know, anyway?"

"I figured you'd want to tell them the most of it…I haven't seen them since the day before yesterday, so all they know is that you lost your eyesight from the concussion."

"I don't know," Oikawa breathed, letting the words fall from his lips without any of the extra effort it took to layer them with emotion. "I just don't know, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi took a deep breath beside him. "You don't have to if you don't want to, y'know...it's just a suggestion. They don't see you as just a captain, you know. You're a friend to them, too. They just want to make sure you're ok."

Oikawa was silent for a few moments, then sighed, "It's been too long," and felt Iwaizumi catch his breath next to him. "It's been way too long…" He felt the sting in his eyes, quickly commanding himself to not cry, holding it back with everything he had. "I want to be able to see already."

Iwaizumi's fingers were in his hair, rubbing his head comfortingly. _Like a child._ Somehow, though, Oikawa melted into his touch. "I know," Iwaizumi whispered soothingly, and--not for the first time since the accident--Oikawa became overly aware of how nice and unnatural Iwaizumi had been acting towards him. _He really blames himself, doesn't he…_ "You'll be able to see. Any day now. I promise."


	5. Alone

Oikawa was about to scream. He'd been at Iwaizumi's place for only one night—and it had been one tough night. First, he had to take a shower, which shouldn't have been so bad. But the building frustration of not being able to see anything eventually led to him kicking the wall, after which he A) slipped and fell, and B) somehow knocked the shower head off, sending water spurting everywhere.

It had not been very fun.

Eventually he'd tried calling for Iwaizumi, then remembered his friend had gone out to buy extra food to accommodate two people. With a lot of struggling, he finally managed to shut the water off, tossing the shower head aside for his friend to repair later. With a sigh of relief, he'd gone to dry off his hair—only to realize it was still full of soap suds. _Could it get any worse?_

After what was supposed to be a "relaxing shower," according to Iwaizumi ("I have to go out to buy some extra food," he recalled Iwaizumi saying before he left, "Why don't you take a relaxing shower, and when I get back I'll make some dinner?"), he stumbled upon the pile of clothes Iwaizumi had left for him, somehow managing to put the shirt on backwards—twice, and getting the shorts inside out a few times. After that, it was only a matter of making it from the bathroom to the living room couch. _I can do this._

He certainly knew Iwaizumi's house well enough. _Out the door…turn left…down the hall…slight right through the doorway…and then the couch is in the middle of the room._ It was so much easier in his mind's eye. Carefully trying to create a mental picture of where he was, Oikawa made his way out of the bathroom and down the hall. With every step he felt his heart constrict with panic, the irrational fear that at any moment the ground could disappear from beneath him, or he'd run into something.

When he actually did fall, his heart just about stopped. He'd knocked his knee against a doorway sticking out of the wall and, panicking for a moment and forgetting where the wall actually was, the air was suddenly rushing past his ears. "Gah!" he couldn't stop the yelp from tearing from his throat, arms flailing out in front of him, hands thankfully hitting the floor first. He still landed hard, the breath escaping his lungs quickly and his heart pounding wildly.

"I give up," he nearly sobbed, the constant terror exhausting him. "I give up. I give up. Just let me see again, I can't do this anymore." When he heard the front door opening and Iwaizumi's _I'm home,_ he nearly cried tears of joy. "Iwa-chan!" he yelled out, gathering the strength to push himself into a sitting position.

"Oikawa?" Oikawa heard Iwaizumi putting down bags in the kitchen, then his footsteps approaching. "What are you doing on the floor? And…uh, you have soap in your hair—"

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa reached out, grabbing Iwaizumi's legs and hugging himself to them. Iwaizumi made a startled sound, his hand smacking against the wall to keep himself upright. Oikawa struggled to hold back the tears, miraculously succeeding. "It was horrible," he whined, feeling his heartbeat gradually slow as he held onto his friend.

Iwaizumi hesitated, then dragged his fingers through Oikawa's wet hair. "Hey…it's ok now…"

"Iwa-chan, please don't make me do that again," Oikawa nearly whimpered, his mind constantly replaying the fear he felt as he was falling. Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa's hands, gently but firmly prying them from his legs.

"You're ok now, you're safe," he murmured, his grip tight on Oikawa's wrists. "Come on, you can stand up…we'll get you to a more comfortable place, ok? You'll feel better once you have a bite to eat." Oikawa sniffed slightly, nodding and letting Iwaizumi pull his limp-with-fear body up.

"I don't want to walk," Oikawa protested weakly when Iwaizumi tried to lead him down the hall. "Don't wanna, Iwa-chan." Iwaizumi sighed.

"Come on, you have to—"

Oikawa fervently shook his head, his body too terrified to take a single step. Finally, Iwaizumi let out a breath of resignation. "Ok, fine. Here." Oikawa was confused as Iwaizumi lifted his arms, then he felt them rest against his friend's shoulders. Immediately gripping onto Iwaizumi tightly, Oikawa let his feet drag on the floor as Iwaizumi began walking, pulling Oikawa along behind him.

Oikawa heard Iwaizumi's faint sound of disapproval when he rested his head on Iwaizumi's shoulder, his wet hair tickling his friend's neck; but the shorter brunet didn't move away. "Sorry," Oikawa murmured quietly into the fabric of Iwaizumi's shirt. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Iwaizumi said, but there was no bite to his words. "Idiot." Before Oikawa knew it, he was being lowered onto the couch.

"Wait," he blurted, suddenly terrified of being left alone again. "Can you…stay? For just a bit?"

Iwaizumi sighed again. "I have to make dinner," he said, but he sat down anyway. Oikawa leaned up against him, trying to match his breathing and slow his heart rate. _Iwa-chan's always had such calm breathing. I wish I could be as calm as him._ He felt Iwaizumi's fingers in his hair again, brushing the remaining soap from the wet strands. Oikawa let out a peaceful breath, feeling at ease once more. With Iwaizumi's calming touch and relaxed breathing paired with the exhausting events from earlier, Oikawa barely noticed himself drifting off to sleep.

  


* * *

  


It was dark when he woke—he was used to that now. Opening his eyes and seeing—well, nothing. He knew he had fallen asleep next to Iwaizumi's calming presence, but…the couch cushion next to him was now empty. "Iwa-chan!" he called out, feeling the panic tightening his throat.

"I'm here!" Iwaizumi answered immediately, his voice coming from another room. "I'm in the kitchen, your dinner's just about done." Oikawa relaxed a bit, trying to command his heart to stop beating so wildly. _Slow down…everything's fine, everything's normal…_ He heard Iwaizumi's footsteps approaching, then felt him sit on the couch beside him.

"Alright," Iwaizumi breathed, and Oikawa felt a tray being rested against his legs. "This has both our dinners on it, so try not to knock it."

"Ok," Oikawa answered hesitantly, hands hovering over the tray awkwardly. Iwaizumi pressed chopsticks into his hand. Oikawa had gotten used to eating while he was in the hospital, as the food there was always served in a similar way, but it still took him some time to locate everything on the tray and actually begin eating. "Iwa-chan?" he asked as Iwaizumi nudged his other hand towards his bowl.

"Yeah?" Iwaizumi replied, voice muffled by food.

Oikawa sighed. "I just…no, never mind. It's nothing." There was a pause.

"Ok," Iwaizumi answered, still chewing.

The silence grew between them. For some reason, Oikawa's pulse began to race. "Iwa-chan?" he asked again, fingers gripping the chopsticks tightly.

"Yeah?" Iwaizumi answered again. Oikawa hesitated.

"I don't think I can do this," Oikawa spoke softly, "for another week." Iwaizumi snorted.

"Of course you can." He left it at that, just a single confident statement, designed to put everything at rest. Oikawa took comfort in his words. _He really believes in me._ It created a warm feeling in his chest.

"Iwa-chan."

"What?"

Oikawa smiled. "I just wanted to hear your voice."


	6. Independent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the chapter where the story starts to move away from my earlier version of it (if you're here from my ff.net account). I tried to include a little more IwaOi, so enjoy! The IwaOi will only be getting more intense from here on out

Oikawa blinked his eyes open eagerly, as he did every morning. Confused, he blinked again. Then again. _Yup,_ he thought to himself, _there’s definitely a difference._ He couldn’t really explain it, not even to Iwaizumi, but it felt like he could almost see. There seemed to be a slight light on the other side of the curtain of blackness that hung before his eyes, and the idea of looking through it got him so excited he could hardly breathe.

“Iwa-chan!” he shouted, hearing the way his voice echoed throughout the house. There was a loud thud from Iwaizumi’s room, and Oikawa smiled to himself as he thought of what his friend looked like, probably tangled in his sheets on the floor beside the bed he’d just rolled out of.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi yelled back in a sleep-hoarse voice, his footsteps quick on the wood floors. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Oikawa said, his voice quieter now that Iwaizumi was entering the same room, “I think I might be able to see soon.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Iwaizumi spoke tightly. “Really?”

Oikawa felt a smile creep across his own face. “Yup,” he answered confidently, opening his eyes and seeing blackness, closing his eyes and seeing a darker blackness. “Soon.”

Iwaizumi smiled. Oikawa knew he was smiling—he could feel it, hear it when he spoke. “That’s great!” his friend said, every syllable heightened with excitement, “I told you it was gonna happen!”

  


* * *

  


That had been a week ago. Now it was four weeks since the concussion, three weeks since he left the hospital, and one week since he began to see. Oikawa ate his breakfast at Iwaizumi’s table as his friend finished preparing his own meal and sat down across the table from him.

Oikawa found himself staring at Iwaizumi, until the other boy glanced up and frowned. “What?” Iwaizumi shifted in his seat. “Stop staring at me, it’s creepy.”

Oikawa laughed. _When was the last time I laughed?_ “But Iwa-chan,” he mock pouted, “I haven’t been able to see you for a month!” Oikawa expected another scowl from his friend, and he was surprised when Iwaizumi smiled back.

“I’m glad you can see again, Trashykawa,” he said, a happy sincerity in his tone, “I really am glad.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa leaned over the table to inspect Iwaizumi’s face closely, frowning slightly. “You don’t still blame yourself, do you?”

Iwaizumi shifted back in his chair, increasing the space between them. “N-No,” he answered unconvincingly, quickly reaching out to grab Oikawa’s bowl. “Anyway, we should clean up—”

“Hey!” Oikawa yelped, snatching his bowl back. “I’m not even done yet! Geez, Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi looked surprised, then glanced down to see Oikawa’s bowl still half-full of food.

“Ah, sorry,” he laughed, and Oikawa glared at him suspiciously. _He really is acting like a different person._ “I’ll just clean up my stuff, then.” He stood quickly, carrying his bowl to the sink. Oikawa’s gaze followed him, but he said nothing, only pouting slightly before gulping down the rest of his breakfast.

It had been a week since Oikawa was able to see, but he hadn’t gone home yet. He felt safer with Iwaizumi, and at first he thought he’d take advantage of the strange gentleness that his friend had been portraying recently. Only now it was kind of freaking him out. “Iwa-chan’s too nice,” Oikawa mumbled around the food in his mouth, “It’s not natural.”

Iwaizumi, apparently having not heard Oikawa’s musings, didn’t turn. Oikawa cleared his throat, finishing the last of his food, and said, “Hey, Iwa-chan…I think I should go back home soon.” Iwaizumi started, but still didn’t turn around, keeping his focus on the dishes he was washing.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice flat. “You sure you can take care of yourself, Crappykawa?”

Oikawa stared down at his bowl. _Why do I feel so bad saying this?_ “Yeah,” he answered, his voice just as flat now as Iwaizumi’s. “I’ve been here too long.” Iwaizumi didn’t agree or disagree.

  


* * *

  


Oikawa slammed his own front door open. “I’m home!” he shouted out, hearing his voice bounce around the empty house. Iwaizumi sighed in exasperation behind him, where he carried a few bags of Oikawa’s stuff that he’d brought from his house before he started living at Iwaizumi’s. They did live on the same street, after all.

“Calm down, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi huffed, putting the bags down just inside the door. “Well, you probably need some food before you start living here again, right? Want to go out and buy some before you get settled in?”

“Nah,” Oikawa grinned, taking up the bags Iwaizumi had dropped and slipping his shoes off as he entered the house. “I’d rather get all set up again. I’ll go food shopping tomorrow.”

Iwaizumi’s forehead creased slightly. “Ok, but call me before you go. You don’t know how to take care of yourself, let alone eat properly.”

“Fine, fine!” Oikawa laughed over his shoulder. “I’ll call you tomorrow!”

As he slid his feet over the too-dusty floor he heard Iwaizumi call out from the front door, “Bye, Trashykawa.”

“Bye, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelled back, hearing the front door close. Turning his attention back to the task on hand, he hummed lightly to himself as he skipped up the stairs to deposit the bags in his room. “Cleaning!” he said aloud, running back down the stairs to grab a broom and some dust rags. He found himself grinning as he worked. _This is so exciting,_ he thought to himself, _I’m finally independent again, able to see and do everything myself!_

He wasn’t entirely sure why there was a tight squeeze in his chest as the words bloomed in his mind.

After a long day of cleaning, Oikawa collapsed on his own bed. “No more sleeping on couches,” he mumbled into the soft mattress, even though Iwaizumi had offered his own bed to Oikawa countless times. But Oikawa had to uphold at least some pride, after Iwaizumi took care of him for a whole month in every way possible, even for a week after his sight had returned.

The sun was already down, and Oikawa reached over to flick off his lamp and plunge the room into darkness. He sighed into his pillow, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. Suddenly there was a loud thud on the roof.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called out instinctively, sitting up straight in bed. Suddenly the darkness was too dark, and his hand was fumbling towards the lamp but he missed and something was falling and there was a huge, impossibly loud crash as the lamp hit the ground. “Shit!” Oikawa hissed into the darkness, which was closing in on him. His hand slid across the night stand the lamp used to rest on, finding his cell phone and using the screen light to see.

The faint light eased his heartbeat slightly, but it was beating in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on the ground. “Shit,” he said again, taking in the sight of the broken shards of ceramic and the busted lightbulb that were scattered across the ground. “Shit, shit, shit! _Iwa-chan!_ ”

Suddenly he remembered where he was. _I’m at my own house._ Of course Iwaizumi wouldn’t come to his aid. Oikawa’s breath was too fast, too quick, and every inhale was cutting into his lungs painfully. His fingers trembled as he unlocked his cell phone, typing in Iwaizumi’s number without thinking of the time.

It only rang twice. “Oikawa?” Iwaizumi’s voice wasn’t as sleep-heavy as Oikawa had expected. “What’s wrong, are you ok?”

Oikawa was silent for a few moments, just trying to catch his breath. “Iwa-chan,” he gasped, just to make sure his friend was still on the line.

“I’m here,” Iwaizumi replied, and Oikawa breathed a sigh of relief just to hear his friend’s voice again, “Just calm down. What happened?”

“I just—” Oikawa’s lungs were burning, his throat constricting around his words. His eyes stung harshly and when he opened his mouth again, all that came out was a choked sob.

“Hold on,” Iwaizumi said, “I’ll be right there.”


	7. Crash

Oikawa started, the breath still rushing through him painfully, when he heard his front door open. “Oikawa?” Iwaizumi’s voice called out. Oikawa would’ve answered if he could, but his voice wouldn’t work. He pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly while the light from his phone, sitting next to him on the bed, barely illuminated the room.

Iwaizumi’s footsteps were quick up the stairs and down the hall to Oikawa’s room, and then the door was open and he was there, panting. “Oikawa? Crap,” he gasped as he noticed the mess of broken lamp on the floor. “Are you ok?”

“I-Iwa—” Oikawa couldn’t stop the shivers that caught ahold of his muscles, making his body tremble. He raised his head at the sound of glass breaking, seeing his friend rushing across the floor to him. “Wait—Iwa—”

Suddenly Iwaizumi’s weight was on the bed, his arms wrapping around Oikawa’s shoulders, pulling him close. Oikawa took in a shaky breath, trembling against the solid calmness of Iwaizumi’s body. The shorter brunet’s fingers were in Oikawa’s hair, holding his head protectively. “It’s ok,” Iwaizumi whispered, over and over. “It’s ok.”

Oikawa felt the tears behind his eyes, but his furious blinking couldn’t hold them back. His throat tightened and his next exhale came out as a sob and then the tears were falling freely, sliding down his face and leaving a salty residue in his mouth. It was slow at first, but as the tears kept flowing, the sobs began to wrack his shoulders. He let Iwaizumi hold him tightly, leaning into the touch. He felt Iwaizumi’s fingers curl through his hair, twisting around the soft strands. 

The tears seemed to run out, but the dry sobs still shook his shoulders. Oikawa struggled just to breathe, the tightness in his throat and the pounding in his chest making it hard to draw in air. His head started to ache, a sharp pain stabbing behind his eyes. Iwaizumi stayed, pressing Oikawa tighter into the embrace, until he stopped trembling. Oikawa had no idea how long it’d been, but it felt like forever. The room was lighter now, lit by the brightness of the moon outside. He breathed against Iwaizumi’s chest, struggling to match the calmer boy’s breathing.

“Are you ok?” Iwaizumi asked softly, the steadiness of his voice slowing Oikawa’s racing heartbeat. Oikawa leaned against Iwaizumi, thinking the other boy was about to pull away, but his arms stayed around him. Oikawa sniffed and nodded slightly, not trusting his voice. He breathed easier now, the tightness in his throat mostly gone and the absence of the sobs allowing him to draw in full inhales.

“Iwa-chan,” he tried, his voice coming out as a cracked whisper. Iwaizumi’s arms tightened around him.

“Yeah?” he answered, an undertone of relief in his voice at the proof that Oikawa really was ok.

“I’m sorry.”

Iwaizumi’s fingers tightened around Oikawa’s hair, a sigh falling from his lips. Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s head drop down on his, leaning against him. “Don’t apologize,” Iwaizumi mumbled, his breath hot in Oikawa’s hair. “You don’t need to apologize.”

Oikawa’s shoulders stiffened for a moment, then relaxed when Iwaizumi’s grip on his shoulders tightened slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said again, the words falling from numb lips, “You don’t deserve this.” The memory of cracking glass echoed in his ears and he lifted his head, looking at Iwaizumi’s face, which was now washed with moonlight. “Did you…step on the glass?”

Iwaizumi glanced away for a moment. “Yeah,” he admitted, his gaze falling to his own bent knees, then following the curve of his legs to his feet. “Just a little, though. It’s not bad.” Oikawa’s eyes followed, widening at the sight of dark splotches, turned black by the moonlight, on the bottom of Iwaizumi’s foot.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasped, starting and pushing Iwaizumi’s arms off his shoulders. “We have to treat it! Uh…let me get the first aid kit!” Iwaizumi chuckled lightly, and Oikawa glared at him. “This is a serious matter, Iwa-chan! Stay right here, I’ll get what you need!” The moon was brighter now, and when Oikawa looked down he could see the light reflecting off every piece of broken glass. Carefully avoiding the mess, he managed to jump down from the bed and hop across the room to the door.

“Careful!” Iwaizumi said, too late—Oikawa was already safely on the other side. 

“Don’t move!” Oikawa called over his shoulder, already starting to move down the hallway. “I’ll be right back!” Rushing to the bathroom, he raided his medicine cabinet. After collecting tweezers (in case there were small pieces of glass under the skin), disinfectant (he didn’t want Iwa-chan to get an infection!), and a roll of gauze (to wrap it all up when it was done), he quickly made his way back. “Oh!” he said out loud, doubling back to grab a broom before rushing back to Iwaizumi.

“I’m back!” Oikawa called out, juggling the items from his expedition. Iwaizumi picked his head up from where he’d been relaxing, lying on his back on the bed.

“Here, toss it over,” Iwaizumi lifted his hands. “I already got all the glass out. Sweep up before you come across, ok?” Oikawa obediently tossed over the items, one at a time, then started sweeping a clean path through the room, gathering the broken shards into a pile off to the side.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again as he worked, not lifting his head. “I really am sorry.”

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue. “What did I tell you about apologizing, Shittykawa?” There was a brief moment of silence in which Oikawa couldn’t think up an answer, then Iwaizumi said, “How did you even manage to knock that lamp over, anyway?”

Oikawa felt the heat rise to his cheeks, bending his head over more to hide it. “Um,” he murmured, “I just…kind of…knocked it over.” The shards were all swept up by now, but he kept moving the broom across the floor to keep himself busy. He glanced up when he heard Iwaizumi’s sharp breath, seeing the shorter brunet applying the disinfectant to his injury.

“Ah, I’m fine,” Iwaizumi said when he noticed Oikawa’s glance, “It just surprised me, that’s all.”

Oikawa leaned the broom against the wall, sitting down beside Iwaizumi and grabbing the gauze. “I’ll do it,” he sighed, “It’s my fault anyway.” 

Iwaizumi let out a disapproving “Hm,” but didn’t say anything as Oikawa began wrapping the gauze around the heel of his foot, where several pieces of glass had punctured the skin. “Guess you’re taking care of me now, huh?” Iwaizumi asked, a smile under his words.

Oikawa glanced up, grinning back. “Iwa-chan,” he replied in a teasing tone, “Of course I have to repay you somehow! You took care of me tonight—well, for the past month, really—actually, basically my whole life—” he paused for a moment, thinking. “Wow,” he laughed, “Iwa-chan, you really did so much for me.”

Iwaizumi shifted on the bed almost uncomfortably as Oikawa finished wrapping the gauze, cutting the end and fastening it tightly. “Well,” he mumbled, “It’s not like you were going to take care of yourself.” He went to draw his foot back, but Oikawa held onto his ankle.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, looking down instead of meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes, “I’m trying to say…thank you.”

“Hm.” Iwaizumi offered no other reply. Oikawa let his hand drop, and Iwaizumi pulled his foot back, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Oikawa didn’t look up, and he was surprised when he felt Iwaizumi’s hand on the top of his head.

“Huh?” He glanced up, seeing Iwaizumi looking to the side, the faint redness of his cheeks barely visible in the moonlight.

“You don’t need to thank me, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said hesitantly. Oikawa felt some sort of happy noise slip from his throat as Iwaizumi rubbed the top of his head. _Why do I like it so much when he touches me?_ “There’s…something I need to tell you.”

Oikawa met his gaze somewhat eagerly, loving the way the silvery sheen of moonlight reflected off the color of Iwaizumi’s eyes. “Y-Yeah?” he asked, not sure what he was expecting, not sure what he wanted to hear or what he didn’t want to hear.

“For a long time now,” Iwaizumi’s eyes flicked to the side then back again, “I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but…I never got a chance, and then you got your concussion, and I just had to be there for you, which only made me realize more…” he paused.

“What?” Oikawa prompted when the silence went on for too long.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and looking Oikawa in the eye. “Well, Oikawa…I like you.”

Oikawa was speechless for a moment, then he felt a light laugh bubbling up in his chest. “I like you, too, Iwa-chan!” he smiled, “You’ve been my number one for my whole life, how could I not? I’m surprised you said that, though, you’re usually not very straight-forward…”

Iwaizumi glanced away again, his blush growing more visible in the light. Oikawa caught his breath as he suddenly realized what Iwaizumi was trying to say. “Not like that,” Iwaizumi muttered, his hand slipping from the top of Oikawa’s head, fingers lightly tugging the hair until his palm rested at the back of Oikawa’s head. Oikawa’s heart began beating faster. He knew what was coming, and yet there was no way he could prepare himself—no way to formulate a plan, to way to decide how to react.

It all happened quickly. Within a single moment, a smooth motion that closed the space between them, a quick touch of the lips so fleeting it could hardly be called a kiss at all, and a squeeze in Oikawa’s chest so painful he thought he must be dying. “Iwa—” Oikawa gasped breathlessly, his heart contracting wildly in his chest as Iwaizumi slowly leaned back, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Iwa-chan, I think you meant to say ‘I love you.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw crap, they're really OOC this time, aren't they...  
> Well, I tried my best! As I promised, the IwaOi will be getting even strongerrrrr with the next chapter!  
> (And a little warning along with an apology: I'm going on vacation so the next chapter won't be out until sometime after labor day. Sorry in advance for the wait! Hope you're enjoying the story so far!)


	8. Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, surprise! I managed to write a quick chapter before I left! So, chapter 9 will be coming out sometime after labor day. Hope you enjoy!

“Iwa-chan, I think you meant to say ‘I love you,’” Oikawa said with a slight laugh, even though it felt like his face was on fire and his heart was about to beat out of his chest. It took all his willpower not to reach a hand up and touch his mouth. Iwaizumi looked just as red, his gaze flicking away. “Say it, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa prompted, just barely managing to cover up the shakiness of his own voice, “Say ‘I love you.’”

Iwaizumi glanced up, meeting Oikawa’s eyes. “I-I love you…Tooru.” Oikawa grinned through the pain in his chest, as his heart was now _definitely_ about to explode.

“Then I,” Oikawa announced dramatically, reaching out to grab Iwaizumi’s wrist, “love you, too… _Hajime_.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against Iwaizumi’s, feeling the shorter brunet startle from the sudden contact. It only lasted a few moments longer than the last one, but they were both redder when Oikawa pulled back.

Iwaizumi looked up with a slightly disgruntled expression. “You actually…?”

“Yes, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa replied eagerly before Iwaizumi had even finished his statement, “Sometimes, in this world, an enormous amount of luck can bring two people together who both happen to love the other.” Iwaizumi looked away, sighing, then looked back as Oikawa continued, “I probably should’ve told you a while ago, but there was no way you would actually like me, let alone love me back! But…I’ve loved you for a long time, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi reached out a hand, trailing his fingers down Oikawa’s cheek and around the bottom of his jaw. His other hand tightened around Oikawa’s brown locks from its position at the back of the taller brunet’s head, pulling Oikawa forward once more. “Come here,” he murmured, and when their lips met this time both their mouths were open, wanting more, _needing_ more. Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s tongue against his lips, then against his own tongue, and suddenly the pressure in his chest was too much, the pain becoming a threat to his breathing, and without thinking he reached a hand up to Iwaizumi’s shoulder and shoved him back.

“Hey—What—?” Iwaizumi stammered, shocked, as Oikawa pressed a hand over his chest, grimacing in pain.

“Iwa—” Oikawa gasped, his inhales stuttering against his attempted speech. Iwaizumi hovered uncertainly, as if he wasn’t sure if he should touch Oikawa or not.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi repeated nervously, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry, Oikawa, are you ok?” Oikawa felt the shudders run through his body, and he held his body up with one trembling arm while the other stayed against his chest, as if the pressure on his skin would calm his painfully racing heart. His breath was coming quickly, ripping through his lungs, and his head was spinning. 

“I-Iwa-chan—” Oikawa managed to gasp out, blackness beginning to creep across his vision as his head got lighter. He blindly reached a hand out, feeling Iwaizumi grasp it.

“It’s ok,” Iwaizumi said, even though his voice was shaking and his fingers were trembling almost as badly as Oikawa’s. “You’re ok. You’re fine. It’s fine.”

“Iwa—” Oikawa panted, “Can’t—breathe—” He felt dizzy, the inability to draw in a full breath of air making his head spin wildly to the point where he thought he’d throw up. Every muscle in his body was shaking, and he had no idea what to do.

“Sh-Should I call a doctor?” Iwaizumi stammered, with a noticeable lack of the usual calm in his voice. Oikawa gripped his hand tighter, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of Iwaizumi leaving.

“N-No,” he whispered, his lungs burning as he struggled to breathe calmly.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi said again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Oikawa leaned forward, pressing his chin against Iwaizumi’s shoulder, trying to slow his breathing by covering his mouth with Iwaizumi’s shirt. He felt Iwaizumi’s hands gently grip his shoulders, then run up and down his back. Oikawa’s next exhale shuddered, but then he was able to draw in a full breath of air. “You’re ok,” Iwaizumi murmured softly, his breath warm against Oikawa’s cheek. “You’re ok.”

Heart still pounding in his chest, Oikawa slowly drew in another breath, filling his lungs until they ached, then shakily exhaled. The dizziness in his head was starting to go away, the threat of nausea passing. As he pulled another lungful of air into his chest, the black spots in his vision began to fade. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as soon as he had the breath to form words, “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan.”

“It’s not your fault,” Iwaizumi sighed, his hands gripping Oikawa’s waist, “Don’t apologize. _I’m_ sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you like—”

“It’s not your fault, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa echoed back at him, sliding his head down until his forehead was on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, his hair tickling the shorter brunet’s neck. He inhaled slowly, deliberately, then repeated, “I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi said nothing, only tightening his grip around Oikawa. “Hey, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa finally broke the silence.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi’s voice came out as a whisper, and Oikawa could feel his friend swallow.

“If you don’t mind…” he hesitated, tipping his head down further to hide his face in the shadows, “Can you…stay with me, tonight?”

Iwaizumi let out a breathless laugh. “Of course.” Oikawa could hear the grin in his voice. “I was planning to, anyway, the second you called me. I was worried when I couldn’t keep an eye on you.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined, heat rising to his cheeks. “You really need to stop worrying about me.”

Iwaizumi just laughed again. “Didn’t you hear me? You made me say it, before. I really do love you.” Oikawa could feel the steady beat in his friend’s chest quicken as those words fell from his mouth, and Oikawa couldn’t help smiling.

“Yeah,” he murmured, sighing against Iwaizumi’s touch as the shorter brunet’s hands rubbed Oikawa’s back comfortingly. Oikawa would’ve said more, but his body was melting under Iwaizumi’s hands and his brain wasn’t helping him find any words to reply with. He sighed again, relaxing to the touch, feeling his eyelids slip down. His reply hit him suddenly, a spark in his mind screaming, _I love you, too!_ But by then his body was too heavy and his muscles were too tired, and he felt himself slipping away.

  


* * *

  


The brightness against his eyelids was annoying but still welcomed after the month of constant darkness, and Oikawa blinked his eyes open to see the afternoon light washing his room in its yellow glow. Slowly sitting up, he glanced around, taking in the familiar sights of his own room. _Wait,_ he thought, _wasn’t Iwa-chan…?_ He glanced over, but the shorter brunet wasn’t there. Stretching, Oikawa picked up his phone from where he’d left it on the bed the night before, surprised it hadn’t fallen to the floor in all that had happened.

_Geez…16% battery, though…_ With a sigh, he plugged it into the charger and slid out of bed, noticing that the pile of broken glass from the other night was missing. _Did Iwa-chan…?_ He frowned slightly. _Where is he now?_ Immediately after the thought, Oikawa shook his head, a tremor of guilt running through him. _I’m relying on him too much…he has his own life, too. I can’t keep bothering him like that. But…_ He knew he never would’ve gotten any rest the night before if Iwaizumi hadn’t come over. _And that sudden panic attack that hit me...How else would I have gotten through it, if he weren’t there?_

With a long, drawn-out sigh that reminded him how great it was to be able to breathe properly, he made his way out of the room and down the stairs, yawning occasionally. He sniffed, taking in the smell of… _food?_

“Iwa-chan?” he mumbled instinctively as he came to the kitchen, seeing his friend at the stove. “What’re you…?”

“Uh,” Iwaizumi grinned, a slight blush tinging his cheeks, “I just thought you’d want some breakfast…You didn’t buy anything the other day, so I ended up having to go back to my house to pick up the ingredients, but I thought you’d want to eat at your own house, and—” He broke off as Oikawa stepped forward and hugged him, wrapping his arms tightly around Iwaizumi’s torso. “H-Hey—”

Oikawa grinned into his shirt, letting out a content sigh. “You’re too nice, Iwa-chan,” he murmured, “It’s unnatural.” He felt Iwaizumi’s heart speed up.

“W-Well, I just—after your panic attack and everything, I thought—y’know, it might be good to eat healthy, and—”

Oikawa picked his head up from Iwaizumi’s shoulder, fitting his hands around the shorter brunet’s waist and leaning in to press his lips softly against Iwaizumi’s, effectively stilling his voice. “Thank you,” Oikawa whispered softly, Iwaizumi’s breath hot on his lips, “Thank you, Hajime.” Iwaizumi’s blush darkened, and he turned away.

“I should focus on breakfast,” he muttered, fixating his attention on the food on the stove. Oikawa slid behind him, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s stomach and holding him, smiling happily. _I really do love you, Iwa-chan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I just reread this and it seems really rushed, I'm sorry XD (Also I need to stop with the panic attacks, like wtf, author?)  
> I'll fix it when I get back, and I promise the next chapter will be better!  
> Thanks for reading, and I really appreciate any reviews or criticism!


	9. Popcorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really thought I'd have more time to write this, but...  
> School just started and things have been kinda crazy, so this is just a super short chapter with innocent fluff. :)

Oikawa leaned back against the couch cushions, memories from the day before filling his head. _So, where do we go from here?_ Iwaizumi’s voice was clear in his head, _What do we do now?_ Oikawa stared at the ceiling, where the flickering light from the TV glowed inconsistently. 

_The same we always did, Iwa-chan,_ he’d answered, smiling. _Now, we’re just a bit closer, that’s all._ They were back in Iwaizumi’s house now, as Oikawa couldn’t imagine facing another night alone. Now, he felt Iwaizumi—his friend; his crush; his…boyfriend?—sit down on the couch beside him. 

“Popcorn’s done,” Iwaizumi stated unnecessarily, as the buttery smell was already reaching Oikawa’s nose. 

“Mm,” Oikawa hummed in response, his throat tightening slightly on the vibrations as his gaze landed on Iwaizumi. The dim light from the television glanced over his face, accenting his features and making his skin glow. _He’s beautiful,_ Oikawa noticed, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last. Only now, there was something different in the thought. There was no longer a hopeless hope tinging the words in his mind. 

_He’s beautiful. And he’s mine._

Iwaizumi turned his gray eyes—silver in the light from the TV—to meet Oikawa’s gaze. “What?” he frowned slightly, though he held out the popcorn to negate the habitual edge in his voice. Oikawa grinned, popping a piece into his mouth.

“Nothing,” he replied, his voice raising the syllables into an almost childish lilt. “Watch the movie, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi sighed, turning his gaze back to the TV, where aliens and spaceships and bright beams were flashing excitedly across the screen. Oikawa felt a hum start in the back of his throat, and didn’t realize he was making any sound until Iwaizumi looked back at him.

“Alright,” Iwaizumi sighed again, switching the popcorn to his other hand and holding his other arm out to Oikawa. “Come here.”

Oikawa stared for a moment before realization dawned. “Iwa-chan!” he cried happily, sliding over on the couch until he was leaning against Iwaizumi, the shorter brunet’s arm draping around him. A happy sound escaped Oikawa as Iwaizumi rubbed his fingers softly over his shoulder, then his back. With a content sigh, Oikawa settled against Iwaizumi and focused back on the TV, even though Iwaizumi’s breath and Iwaizumi’s touch and Iwaizumi’s smell were somehow just as distracting as they were comforting.

Before long, Oikawa could hardly focus on the movie anymore. The relaxation of his muscles had traveled to his brain. His lashes became heavy on his eyelids, pulling them down. He mumbled slightly as Iwaizumi’s hand settled on his waist, and leaned into his friend’s—boyfriend’s?—warm body. “Iwa-chan,” he murmured, the syllables barely escaping his suddenly tired lips.

“Hm?” Iwaizumi answered lazily, dragging the sound through his throat. The hum vibrated in his chest, and Oikawa’s head dropped down to Iwaizumi’s lap. A sudden yawn filled Oikawa’s lungs, stretching his jaw.

“Iwa-chan,” he mumbled again, the yawn turning into a sigh as Iwaizumi’s fingers slid through his hair, stroking his head almost like a cat. “Tired.”

“Hm,” Iwaizumi replied again, and Oikawa cracked an eye open and craned his head to see Iwaizumi’s lids drooping as well. “Then sleep,” Iwaizumi said, a heaviness pulling at his words as well.

“Mm,” Oikawa hummed, snuggling closer to Iwaizumi and leaning into his comforting touch. “Mmkay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally wrote this in like 10 minutes. I'm so sorry. I promise I'll try to make time so that the other chapters don't seem rushed or anything...I don't really know if I'm going to post regularly, I'll just add chapters as I finish them. I don't even know where this story is going anyway so if you have any suggestions please let me know! I might just end it soon, idk. Thanks for reading so far!


	10. Nightmare

_Oikawa heard a smash, felt the air violently rushing past him as his body fell. Glass shattered somewhere, the sounds of the tiny bits scattering across the ground. The ground was far, far below, lost in blackness. “Iwa-chan!” he heard his own terrified voice call out, but there was no response. “Help me!”_

_His heart was thudding in his chest, harder and harder until he could feel the blood pumping through his fingertips. “Help!” he yelped one more time, his voice rising to hysteria as the air zoomed past his ears faster and faster. Without warning, his body slammed into the ground, tiny prickles of pain exploding under his skin as the shattered pieces of glass embedded themselves into him. “Iwa-chan!” he half-sobbed, the words catching in his throat as the blood that was previously racing through his veins now poured onto the ground, until he could feel the puddle of thick liquid spreading beneath him._

_Tears, light and thin compared to the blood escaping him, slid down his cheeks as his entire body was taken into the clutches of pain itself. His shoulders shook with heavier and heavier sobs, even as each movement caused the agony to increase. He could feel every piece of glass digging deeper, past skin, past muscle, grinding against bone. “Help me!” he screamed, hoarse pain tearing at the edges of his voice just as the shards of pain were tearing into his body._

_Glass smashed next to his ear, causing him to flinch away even though he felt nothing. No shards hit him, but the sound was deafeningly loud, echoing in his eardrum. He struggled to get up, to get away, but the pain was too intense and the world was too dark and uncertain. “Iwa-chan!” he sobbed out once more, desperately reaching his hands around to feel for any sort of support to pull himself up, only succeeding in driving the glass pieces further into his arms._

_The agony paired with the emotional pain caused his next words to come out harsh and ragged, their syllables tearing at his throat like the jagged pieces of glass that were embedded in him. Every word hurt more than the last, the pain of speaking growing with every sound. “Why won’t you help me?!”_

  


* * *

  


“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi’s familiar voice called out, not exactly loud but not particularly quiet either. _“Oikawa!”_ A hand was shaking his shoulder, and Oikawa felt a strange tightness in his throat as he gradually became more aware. “Wake up! _Tooru!_ ”

Oikawa blinked open his eyes, the constriction of his throat making it hard to swallow and the pain still lingering deep under his skin. He could still feel the jagged ends of the glass grinding into his bones, sliding easily through his skin and muscles. “Iwa—” he managed to choke out, feeling the wetness of tears already on his cheeks.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said, his voice softer and more relieved now, “You were having a bad dream. Are you ok?” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Oikawa. Disoriented and with the fear still lingering in his veins, Oikawa was tempted to lean into the embrace. But he found himself sitting up on his own, placing one hand over Iwaizumi’s arm as if to tell him he was fine. _I’m too reliant on him._

“I’m ok,” he answered shakily, sucking the air into his lungs as he tried to force the trembling from his limbs. He was still on the couch, where he had fallen asleep next to Iwaizumi during the movie. The room was dim with early dawn light. Oikawa blinked the sleep from his eyes, his heart pounding a little faster for every half-second the blackness covered his vision. He rubbed his arms, as if to make sure there was no glass embedded in his skin. _It felt so real._

“It was just a dream,” Iwaizumi echoed his thoughts, his embrace falling from Oikawa’s shoulders, his hand running down Oikawa’s arm to grasp his hand comfortingly.

“I know,” Oikawa whispered, and he did know. But, no matter how rational he knew the thought was, he also knew that the dream itself was so real. It almost seemed impossible that it had only been a dream at all. _A nightmare._ It had been a while since he’d last had a nightmare—a real nightmare that shook him to the bone and left him still scared even when he woke.

“You ok?” Iwaizumi asked again, threading his fingers though Oikawa’s. Oikawa drew in a breath, feeling the inhale shudder through his lungs. The exhale was smoother.

“I—” Oikawa let out a nervous laugh, reaching an arm up to wipe at his face, feeling the tears damp against the back of his hand. He turned back to Iwaizumi, forcing his lips into a smile. “Yeah, I’m ok.” 

Iwaizumi hesitated, his hand gently squeezing Oikawa’s. “I’ll get you a glass of water,” he offered, but Oikawa shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, the words sticking against his throat and the syllables coming out forced and unnatural. He took a breath, his next words coming out smooth and even. “Just…let’s just sit, for a while.” He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want Iwaizumi to leave his side, even just for a second. _What if he never comes back?_ he found himself thinking, the terror from his nightmare still racing through his memory. _What if I’m stranded in the dark again?_

“You’re ok,” Iwaizumi murmured, his voice gentle and soft. Despite his best efforts to sit on his own, Oikawa found himself leaning into Iwaizumi’s warm body, letting the shorter brunet wrap his arms around him. “You’re fine. You’re safe.” Oikawa’s eyes drooped closed, only to snap back open as soon as the darkness swept across his vision. _I’m fine. I’m safe._ Even as he repeated the words in his own head, Oikawa found himself unable to close his eyes, unable to face the blackness.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered, staring blankly ahead, eyes open wide. 

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi answered, his arms tight around Oikawa’s body, which had slowly eased its trembling.

“I-I—” Oikawa stuttered, the words refusing to form on his tongue. Iwaizumi gave him a comforting squeeze, and Oikawa took a deep breath. “I can’t—I can’t close my eyes.”

He felt Iwaizumi stiffen beside him. “You’re ok,” Iwaizumi said again, his voice still as even and soft as it had been before despite the tight nervousness in his body. “It’s just because of the dream. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Oikawa felt a sigh shudder from his lungs, as if his own body was struggling to relax. “Ok,” he whispered, the syllables almost too quiet in the air. “Ok. Ok.” He drew in another deep breath, blinking once, twice, feeling the thrill of panic race through him. “Ok.”

“You’re fine,” Iwaizumi repeated, holding Oikawa tightly.

“I’m fine,” Oikawa answered back, the words catching in his throat. “I’m fine. I’m fine.” The more he repeated it, the more he believed it. He turned slightly, wrapping his own arms around Iwaizumi’s waist. “Thank you, Iwa-chan,” he mumbled into Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he pressed himself against the calm presence.

A soft chuckle vibrated through Iwaizumi’s body as his hand reached up to run its fingers through Oikawa’s fluffy hair. “Don’t thank me, Shittykawa.” The sun was brighter now, the room not as dim and much more comforting. “It’s not like you.”

Oikawa found himself grinning at Iwaizumi’s words. “Thank you,” he repeated teasingly, “Thank you thank you thank you thank you tha—”

“Ugh,” Iwaizumi groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “You’re so annoying.” Oikawa only widened his grin, because he could hear the matching smile in Iwaizumi’s voice. He leaned against Iwaizumi as the shorter brunet’s fingers continued to stroke his head. Iwaizumi laughed at that. “You’re like a cat.”

“Mmm,” Oikawa smiled, his eyelids fluttering shut for a second before the fear set in and they snapped back open again. But Iwaizumi’s touch really was calming. Oikawa tightened his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist, breathing in deeply.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, his voice more serious now but still unbelievably gentle. It hit Oikawa once more how unnaturally kind Iwaizumi had been to him since the start of the whole ordeal.

“Yeah, Iwa-chan?”

“Y’know…” Iwaizumi hesitated, his words coming out forced and deliberate. “I hate to bring this up, but…” Oikawa already knew what he was going to say, had already seen the marking on the calendar and dreaded it. “Tomorrow…the break is ending, and, um…well, what do you think about maybe…”

“Going back to school?” Oikawa finished for him, knowing that Iwaizumi was trying to be as gentle as possible but determined to show him how strong he really was. _It’s just school. It’s not like I’m blind anymore. This’ll be a piece of cake. What am I so worried about, anyway?_ But, in truth, he knew what he was worried about. He sighed, deciding that voicing his fear aloud would be the best way to face them. “Iwa-chan…what do we do?”

Iwaizumi sighed, uncertainty and nervousness mixed into that single soft exhale. “I don’t know,” he responded, knowing exactly what Oikawa had been asking. “I know…you’re worried about everything being different. But it doesn’t have to be. We can just act like we always have.”

Oikawa dipped his head down, pressing his forehead against Iwaizumi’s shoulder and letting out a soft hum of agreement. “Iwa-chan…do you want that?” he asked softly, not sure what he himself wanted. _Do I want everything to be the same? Am I afraid of change? Am I aching for it? What do I want? What does Iwa-chan want? What’s the best possible choice here?_

Iwaizumi was silent for a moment. The air seemed to become heavier as both their minds raced to decide what to do. Eventually, Iwaizumi’s huffed breath broke the silence. “Let’s just…let’s just not do anything. We’ll keep things the same until we figure everything out. We don’t have to rush anything.”

Oikawa knew what he was talking about. He dreaded seeing people’s reactions, dreaded the stares and glares he might get. No matter how strong he built himself up to be, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle all that, day after day. “Ok,” he whispered, staring unblinkingly at the fabric of Iwaizumi’s shirt sleeve, “Let’s just…not rush anything.”

Iwaizumi slid his fingers through Oikawa’s hair again, tugging softly against the strands as Oikawa leaned into the touch, a happy whine escaping him. Iwaizumi let out a chuckle, the anxiety in his chest expelling with the noise. “Just…remember what I said before, ok?”

Oikawa lifted his head, staring into Iwaizumi’s eyes. “That you love me?”

A soft smile tugged at Iwaizumi’s lips. “That I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah I got another chapter out! (Finally lol)
> 
> I had a nightmare the other night, in case you couldn't tell xD
> 
> Please please pleeeeaaase review! What do you want to happen when they return to school? What about volleyball practice? How they act towards each other around other people? Let me know what you think and what you want to see!


	11. Makki

According to the angry red light of the clock, it was 2:36 in the morning and Oikawa still couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted, his mind craving rest, and yet at the same time it wouldn’t give it to him. Iwaizumi was on the bed beside him, having fallen asleep hours ago. Oikawa snuggled against the warm presence, but the darkness of the room was getting to him. Every so often he would randomly jump, thinking he heard glass breaking somewhere. He was almost afraid to move, the memory of him swinging an arm out and shattering his lamp jumping to his mind.

_It’s just the nightmare from the other night,_ he told himself, screwing his eyes shut as panic laced through his veins and made his muscles tremble. _I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t have to rely on anyone or anything._ Despite his own words, he couldn’t nullify the terror that still rose to his mind, and he found his own hand moving to run his fingers up his forearm, as if checking to make sure there was no glass embedded in his skin.

Eventually he reached over Iwaizumi’s body to tug the window shade to the side, letting the silvery light from the moon wash over the room. He breathed a little easier at that, immediately feeling weak because of it. _I can’t even sleep in the dark,_ he thought to himself, staring out the window at the waning moon. _How did I ever think I was so strong?_

He stared at that moon for a long time. Eventually he shook his head, as if it would shake the thoughts from his mind. It didn’t, of course. His gaze flew back to the clock. 3:17, it mocked him. Even as he watched, the extra red lines appeared to turn the 7 into an 8. 

With a frustrated groan, Oikawa slid out of the bed and made his way out of the room and down the hall, sliding his hand along the wall as he went. The light he flicked on in the bathroom was bright, and it made his eyes ache. _Still better than blackness, though._ He rifled through the medicine cabinet, finding a container of sleeping pills.

_This is pathetic,_ he found himself thinking as he read the back label that instructed him how many to take. _I can’t even sleep. This is pathetic._ He leaned his forehead against the cool mirror for a second, taking deep breaths. _What the hell. I need to fix this._ With a sigh, he spilled a couple pills onto his palm and swallowed, shoving the pill container back into the cabinet and slamming his hand against the light switch.

The room was swallowed in darkness. Immediate terror pulsed through his veins, and his hand gripped the side of the doorway tightly, the edge of the wood digging into his palm and fingertips. _This is ridiculous,_ he screamed inwardly, tired of feeling weak, tired of being weak, tired of everything. His next step forward was angry, the step after even angrier. His hand ran across the wall gently at first, but as he kept going his fingernails began to rake against the side, vibrations running up his fingers.

He finally came to the doorway of Iwaizumi’s bedroom, blinking to get his eyes used to the dim moonlight after going from the bright bathroom to the dark hallway. Slowly making his way across the room, idly wondering how long it took for the sleeping pills to kick in. _Maybe the pills are just psychological,_ he inwardly laughed to himself, shaking his head. He slid into the bed, feeling Iwaizumi shift in his sleep.

Oikawa wanted to wake Iwaizumi, wanted to consume any type of comfort the shorter brunet could possibly give to him. Even just to hear his voice. Right after the urge hit him, Oikawa let out a self-disgusted snort. _I’m ruining his life,_ the words echoed strangely in his mind, _I’m way too dependent on him. Hell, I’m even living with him. Sleeping with him. I’ve taken over his life because I’m so helpless._

He glanced over at the clock. _No way that much time passed._ 4:03, the letters read. _No way._ He blinked. They didn’t change. He leaned his head back against the pillow, a soft groan of resignation escaping him. “What the hell,” he whispered softly, tired eyes staring unblinkingly at the silver-washed ceiling. “Go the hell to sleep, Tooru.”

  


* * *

  


“Oikawa, wake up.” Oikawa came to his senses quickly, his eyes snapping open the second his mind became aware of the darkness before him. Sunlight washed over him, causing his eyes to ache and squint half-shut. He looked up at Iwaizumi, who had shaken him awake. With a soft groan, Oikawa reached up a hand to rake his hair back. The grogginess from the sleeping pills he’d taken the night before still lingered. He didn’t even remember falling asleep.

Oikawa rolled onto his back, sliding his arms beneath him and lifting himself up on his elbows, another soft moan falling from his lips as his head pounded from the movement. He heard Iwaizumi’s voice again. “Are you ok?”

“Huh?” Oikawa half-heartedly responded, rubbing at one tired eye with the back of his hand as pain spiked through his head. _At least I didn’t have any nightmares last night._

“Oikawa. Are you ok?” Iwaizumi repeated, and Oikawa stared at him, trying to decipher the look in his eyes.

“…What?” he answered finally, after a long silence. Iwaizumi sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Ok, well, you seemed pretty tired so I let you sleep a little longer, but you have to get ready fast. Your uniform is on the dresser and I already made breakfast, downstairs. You’ve got…fifteen minutes.”

Oikawa rubbed his aching temple, struggling to comprehend Iwaizumi’s words. _He’s talking too fast…wait…fifteen minutes…? Where do I go in fifteen minutes…?_ “Oh!” he said aloud, glancing up at Iwaizumi. “Fifteen minutes?!”

Iwaizumi laughed as Oikawa shot up in bed. “Better hurry, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa looked wide-eyed at the clock. “Screw you, Iwa-chan!” he groaned, and as Iwaizumi stood up Oikawa noted that he was already dressed in the school uniform. 

“I’ll be downstairs. Hurry up if you want to eat together.” He left with a small wave, leaving Oikawa to stare disbelievingly at the clock.

“Agh!” the brunet finally started, pushing his still half-asleep limbs from the bed, his head pounding. He whined softly, pushing his fingers through his hair again. "I have the meanest boyfriend ever.”

  


* * *

  


By the time they had both rushed through breakfast and out the front door, there was already another figure waiting farther down the street. “Shit!” Iwaizumi hissed as he saw the figure, who was standing outside Oikawa’s house on his phone. “We forgot about Makki.” Hanamaki always stopped by to pick up Oikawa, then Iwaizumi, then Matsukawa to walk to school together.

Oikawa groaned. “How did we forget about him? Do you think we can just sneak around him?” Knowing Hanamaki, they both knew that the second he saw them come out of the same house, the entire walk to school would be full of nonstop teasing.

Iwaizumi sighed, then spoke slowly. “Maybe we should just…tell him? I mean, him and Mattsun only. They’d be fine with it, right? I doubt they’d tease us that badly if they just knew.” Even as Iwaizumi was talking, Hanamaki looked up from his phone, catching sight of Oikawa and Iwaizumi on the front step of Iwaizumi’s house.

“Ah, shit,” Oikawa muttered. “I guess…I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind either,” Iwaizumi laughed nervously. “Should we go for it?” Hanamaki had slipped his phone into his pocket and begun a condescending walk towards the two, a smirk wide and obvious on his face and growing even more so with every step he took.

“There’s no getting out of this,” Oikawa groaned as he caught the look on Hanamaki’s face. “Let’s just tell him. Just to see how he takes it. If…if he takes it badly, we can just play it off as a joke, right?” He turned to look at Iwaizumi, seeing the reassuring smile he’d been hoping to see.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi murmured. “It’ll be fine. Just relax.”

Hanamaki called out when he reached the edge of Iwaizumi’s driveway. “Hey, guys!” he grinned, waving a hand over his head. “You’re late! What, were you up all night or something?”

“Morning, Makki!” Oikawa smiled back, even though his hands were trembling. He shoved them in his pockets and walked out to meet the other boy, hearing Iwaizumi following closely behind. 

Hanamaki’s grin widened as Oikawa got closer. “Hey, what’s that, a hickey on your neck?”

Oikawa’s hand flew up to his neck, his gaze snapping towards Iwaizumi. “W-Wha—?” he stammered, trying to recall whatever instance would’ve led to a hickey on his neck. _I don’t remember…_

Hanamaki broke down into laughter, doubling over and putting his hands on his knees. “I’m joking!” he hooted, his shoulders shaking. “I’m just joking! Oh, my God, your face! Your _face!_ ” Oikawa nervously put his hand back in his pocket, not sure if he should laugh along or try to defend himself. Iwaizumi brushed against his side, slipping his hand into Oikawa’s pocket to grasp the trembling fingers.

“Relax,” he whispered softly, “It’s just Makki. We expected this. Deep breaths, ok?” Oikawa nodded silently, moving his hand to return a grateful squeeze but feeling Iwaizumi’s fingers drawing away too soon, returning back to his own pocket.

“Ohh, that was so good,” Hanamaki sighed, having not heard the exchange between the two. He stood up, wiping at his eyes, a smile still on his face. “You guys.” He sighed again, shaking his head slightly. “Alright, let’s go pick up Mattsun.”

Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi, seeing his own confusion mirrored. “W-Wait,” Oikawa found himself saying, “You…You’re not surprised?”

Hanamaki tilted his head to the side. “What, that you and Iwaizumi are sleeping together and/or dating? Yeah, no, basically the whole team was making bets on you guys. Speaking of which, here’s an important question. I’ve got 5,000 yen riding on this so answer truthfully.” He looked them both in the eye, drawing out the silence as if to weigh down the importance of the situation. “Now,” he finally spoke again, “Have you two fucked yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick so I spent the entire day working on this fic lol (yay for sickness)
> 
> Same questions as last time, since I didn't really advance the plot a lot: What do you want to happen when they return to school? What about volleyball practice? How they act towards each other around other people?
> 
> Please review, and thanks for reading!


	12. BFFs

It didn’t take long to reach Matsukawa’s house, where he leaned against the fence by his driveway. “Hey,” he offered, waving slightly as they approached, then falling into step with them. Hanamaki drew back a few paces so that he and Matsukawa were walking together, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa were in front of them.

“Hey, Mattsun, guess what finally happened!” Hanamaki gleefully greeted the brunet. Oikawa met Iwaizumi’s exasperated glance with a twinge of nervousness, which wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he tried to relax.

“What?” Matsukawa looked from Hanamaki to Iwaizumi to Oikawa, his gaze lingering on the two in front of him. “Did they get together or something?”

Oikawa threw his hands up dramatically. “Was it really _that_ obvious??” he cried out, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah,” Matsukawa deadpanned, “Honestly, we had no idea it would take this long just for you two to realize it.”

“I told them about the bets already,” Hanamaki put in, “They _said_ they haven’t fucked yet, but…”

“We haven’t!” Oikawa yelped indignantly. 

Iwaizumi shook his head and sighed, then turned around to face the other two. “Hey, what were the bets on, anyway?”

“Oh, there was a bunch,” Hanamaki held up a hand to count off his fingers, “Ok, so one was that you’d get together—whether this meant dating openly or not—before your last year of high school, so that one already came and went. I put money on you guys not getting together until during or after your third year, so I’m getting paid!” He let out a happy giggle, and Matsukawa grumbled beside him. 

“I already lost my money,” the brunet groaned, and Hanamaki kept talking over him.

“Another bet was that you would have sex before officially ‘getting together,’ the flip side of which would be you having sex _after_ you’ve already started dating. If you’re telling the truth—which I still doubt, by the way, with the incredible amount of sexual tension surrounding you two—then both Mattsun and I lose money.”

“So much lost,” Matsukawa sighed, as Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s faces both grew heated at Hanamaki’s words.

“Oh, there’s more,” Hanamaki smirked, holding up a third finger. “Actually, Mattsun and I didn’t put money on this one, but some others from the team did. We thought it was a little intrusive.”

“Intrusive?” Iwaizumi muttered, making Oikawa smile slightly as Hanamaki went on.

“Anyway, it was whether or not you would actually _be_ open about getting together. There were sub categories of this one, about how long after getting together you’d be open about it and whatnot.”

Matsukawa interrupted here. “We thought this was the worst, though, ‘cause if something bad happened if you guys came out, then we’d feel a little guilty.”

“Something bad?” Oikawa echoed.

Matsukawa shrugged. “Y’know…quite a few things, actually. Our main concern has been your fangirls—they would obviously get jealous, and girls are _demons_ when they’re jealous. Also…I mean, our team is ok with it, as you could probably tell by all the bets, but…”

Hanamaki interrupted him, as if getting back at him for the last interruption. “We just figured, if we put any money on it, we’d probably feel bad if anything did happen.”

Matsukawa grinned. “Also because we weren’t sure if you would _ever_ come out.”

Iwaizumi groaned, leaning his head back. “You guys are _way_ too interested in our lives,” he muttered, staring up at the sky as he walked.

“Oh, speaking of which!” Hanamaki flung a hand out, almost hitting Oikawa in the face but succeeding in waving his fingers directly in front of the taller brunet’s eyes. “How does it feel to be able to see again, captain?”

Oikawa laughed a little, subconsciously reaching a hand up to tug at his hair. “It feels great, Makki,” he smiled, a genuine smile. “That was the worst month of my life, I swear to God.”

“We’re just glad you’re ok now,” Matsukawa offered, and as Oikawa tilted his head to look at the shorter brunet, Matsukawa’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “After all, you did have your dear _Iwa-chan_ taking care of you for all that time, didn’t you?”

“Argh!” Oikawa flung his hands up again. “Stop teasing me already! Meanies!”

“Never!” they laughed together, then proceeded to make a billion assumptions about what had happened.

“I bet they slept in the same bed.”

“I bet they took showers together.”

“I bet Iwaizumi cooked for Oikawa _every day._ ”

“Hey, remember when they _never invited the team over?_ ”

“Yeah, they probably wanted all the alone time they could get.”

“Couldn’t bother with us single men.”

“I bet they gave each other good-night kisses.”

“I bet they gave each other good- _morning_ kisses.”

“I bet Iwaizumi dressed Oikawa every day.”

“I bet Iwaizumi _un_ -dressed Oikawa every _night._ ”

“Ayyyyyy!”

“Ayyyyyy!”

“Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyy—!” 

Finally Iwaizumi stopped, spinning on his heel to face the two. “That’s enough already!” he ordered, and Oikawa had to cover up a laugh because his boyfriend’s face was blushing crimson. Apparently he didn’t cover it up too well, because the next thing he knew Iwaizumi’s sharp gaze was swinging to him. “Don’t you dare laugh!”

“Ok!” Oikawa grinned, freezing and putting his hands up in an _I-surrender_ position. “I mean, it’s not like we _did_ any of those things, but your face…”

Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa let out groans of disappointment. “Aw, you didn’t?” Hanamaki whined, “Not even one of them?”

“Well…” _We did sleep in the same bed, though we only started recently…and Iwaizumi did cook every meal for me throughout the entire month, and he still does…_

“Don’t you _dare_ finish that sentence,” Iwaizumi growled at Oikawa, pivoting back around to keep walking.

“Tell us later,” Hanamaki and Matsukawa hissed in unison at Oikawa, who only held up his hands again nervously and followed Iwaizumi down the sidewalk. _Just to the end of this street…then we’re at Seijou._

“I bet they’re into some kinky shit,” Oikawa heard Hanamaki whisper to Matsukawa. He grit his teeth, deciding to ignore the two as they kept loudly whispering.

“Yeah,” Matsukawa agreed, “They’re probably into, like, bondage and shit.”

“Ohh, I could totally see that,” Hanamaki whispered back, his ‘whisper’ seemingly louder than a yell. _It certainly carries further,_ Oikawa fumed as he felt the heat rise to his cheeks.

“Who would be the one tied up, though?” Matsukawa asked, and Hanamaki paused for a second on that one.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I could really see either of them doing it…maybe they’ll switch it up.”

“I think Iwaizumi would top,” Matsukawa hissed, and Oikawa felt the flames under his skin, gritting his teeth harder as he struggled to not respond to the edged comments of the two behind him.

“Oh yeah, now that I think about it…but I could totally see Oikawa being a power bottom, eh?”

“Nah, Iwaizumi would _totally_ dominate him.”

“You think so?” Matsukawa was silent for a few more moments. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Hanamaki giggled softly. “Well, I guess we’ll never know unless they just _admit to us that they’ve already fucked._ ” The last statement abandoned all pretenses of a whisper, making it nearly impossible for Oikawa to keep staring forward and walk in a straight line.

“Hey, Oikawa, you alright there?” Matsukawa hopped forward a step or two to walk next to the captain. “You look a little redder than usual. Maybe you have a cold?” He was grinning evilly. _What did I do to deserve this,_ Oikawa groaned to himself. “Maybe _Iwa-chan_ can help you. He’s good at taking care of you, isn’t he?”

Suddenly Hanamaki was on Oikawa’s other side, whispering in his ear. “He’s _very_ good at taking care of you…isn’t he?”

Oikawa let out a frustrated groan. “Iwa-chan!” he called out, the spiky-haired brunet already a few meters ahead of them, “They’re being mean!”

Iwaizumi turned back, which surprised Oikawa for a second because he didn’t think Iwaizumi would even react. Their eyes met, and Iwaizumi’s gaze seemed somehow softer than usual, a certain understanding and comfort in their depths that caused Oikawa’s heart to calm and his blush to fade.

“Aw, look at that, Mattsun,” Hanamaki teased softly, “They’re looking into each other’s eyes like _lovers._ Look at that connection right there. _Beautiful._ ” Iwaizumi aimed a frown at the two before turning back forward and continuing to walk.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, his voice wry. “You do realize you have a stupid grin on your face right now, right?”

Oikawa felt his cheeks flame up again, reaching up to cover his face with his hands. “I hate you,” he mumbled into his palms. “You’re the worst friends ever.” They finally walked through the school gates. 

“Well, we’re going this way,” Hanamaki pointed to the left, tugging Matsukawa to follow him. “Catch up with your boyfriend, ok? Oh, and we won’t tell anyone if you don’t want us to.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa felt a relieved smile cross his face, then felt the need to add to the end of his thanks, “Even though you both suck.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa made victorious eye contact, and Oikawa knew he’d just dug his own grave with that last remark. “Not as hard as you suck Iwa!” they both yelled, turning to give each other high fives.

Oikawa leaned his head back, groaning. “Why am I even friends with you,” he muttered, turning to catch up to Iwaizumi. The spiky-haired brunet had stopped and was waiting for him with a soft, barely-noticeable smile on his face.

“What’d I tell you?” he grinned, and Oikawa found himself grinning back. “Nothing to worry about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy, I was sick again so I got another chapter out! (Btw, sorry I'm not on a schedule for updates, I know that's annoying af but I'm not that organized xD)
> 
> Yeah, basically the same questions as last time...Also I'm adding one: Do you like the way I've kind of portrayed Oikawa so far? I feel like he's getting too OOC, should I make him more confident, or does this weak side of him work in this fic?
> 
> Please review, I love hearing what you think and what you want to see later!


	13. Oikawa-san

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short because I really need to ask you guys some questions about how the plot will advance from here, so please read the end notes and let me know before I write the next chapter!

“Alright, that’s all for today,” the teacher said from the front of the room, glancing at the clock. “Don’t forget your homework, and the test is, uh, next week…” Oikawa was already packing up along with the rest of the class, everyone’s conversations gradually drowning out the teacher. Oikawa stayed silent as he gathered everything into his bag. He couldn’t stop thinking about Iwaizumi.

Even after they’d seen the reactions of their two friends, Iwaizumi and Oikawa had decided to still keep their relationship among themselves and their teammates. “We’ll just have to figure it out, ok?” Iwaizumi had said before leaving to go to his own class. Oikawa had smiled then, but now he wasn’t so sure. He honestly had no idea what he wanted. _Is it really that hard?_ he found himself wondering, _It’s such a simple question, to be open about it or not. So why is it such a hard decision?_

“Oikawa-san?” He heard a timid voice, glancing down to see a young girl standing next to his desk. Her glossy black hair was done in pigtails, and thick red frames outlined her eyes. Between her hairstyle, her short stature, and the way she nervously rocked back and forth on her feet with her hands clasped in front of her…it made her seem so shy and innocent.

Oikawa felt a rarely genuine smile curl at his lips—the kind of smile he never really gave, except to Iwaizumi. “Can I help you?” he asked softly, already bracing himself for what he knew was coming. He wasn’t an idiot—and he never tried to act like it. But now, with what had happened between him and Iwaizumi…this was going to be a very strange part in his life.

“Um,” the girl smiled back nervously, her gaze—which Oikawa now noticed was a deep brown—flicked to the side, then back again. “I just—I heard you were injured last game, and I—I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa automatically replied, his previously genuine smile gradually becoming more and more forced. “Were you watching the game?”

“Uh, no,” the girl stuttered, “My—my friend told me what happened. Um, Oikawa-san…”

“Yes?” Oikawa grinned, wondering how it was that the smile that had been so easy to fake before was now one of the hardest shapes to make his mouth into.

“Did you…did you really jump to protect one of your teammates?”

“Huh?” Oikawa let out a nervous laugh, but it quickly faded when he remembered. The heaviness of Iwaizumi’s voice, coming out of the darkness, as he said ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. The deep shadow of guilt in Iwaizumi’s eyes whenever Oikawa found himself caught in the clutches of a panic attack. The memory of Iwaizumi’s voice saying, _You’re wondering why I haven’t punched you yet._

It took him a moment to realize the girl had kept talking. “I thought that…I thought that was a really brave thing to do…I think you’re a really good captain, Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa stared at her blankly for a few moments. _Such a good captain,_ he thought, inwardly laughing at his own pathetic-ness. _Just let me thank you, if only once,_ Iwaizumi had said, pain in his voice. If he was being completely honest, Oikawa knew that there were times—back before his sight had returned—when he’d thought about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t impulsively jumped forward to shield Iwaizumi. _Would Iwa-chan be hurt? Would he have been as badly injured as me? Would he have dodged it?_

“Um…Oikawa-san?” the girl asked hesitantly, and Oikawa snapped back to reality, forcing that smile back onto his face.

“Uh, sorry,” he let out a fake laugh, “I spaced out for a bit. Thank you, you’re very kind to say that.” The girl smiled, relieved. Over her shoulder, Oikawa saw Iwaizumi leaning against the doorway of the classroom, bag slung over his shoulder, waiting for him.

The girl noticed his glance, seeing Iwaizumi and hurriedly turning back to Oikawa. “Uh, sorry, sorry!” she squeaked, “I’m keeping you too long. You must have to go to practice, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Oikawa replied slowly, his thoughts wandering again.

“Then, I-I’ll be going now!” she bowed slightly before spinning to grab her bag and make her way out the door. Iwaizumi stayed where he was for a few moments, his gaze following the girl down the hallway. He slowly turned to Oikawa, leaning his head back against the door frame.

“What was all that about?” he asked, his voice uninterested and bored.

Oikawa picked up his bag from his desk, adjusting the straps across his shoulder and reaching up a hand to push his hair from his face. He felt a laugh in the back of his throat, but when he opened his mouth it came out harsher than he’d expected. “She said I was a good captain,” he sighed, amusement making his words light.

Iwaizumi tilted his head to the side. “Oh?” Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi, his gaze slipping across his boyfriend’s face to linger on his lips, then down his jaw to his exposed neck. 

“Yeah,” Oikawa replied softly, his eyes flicking back up to meet Iwaizumi’s gaze, barely catching the slip of tongue that briefly flicked out to lick his lip. “Iwa-chan?” Oikawa breathed, feeling the atmosphere growing heavier.

Suddenly Iwaizumi snapped his head to the side, breaking the stare. “We’re going to be late for practice, Shittykawa,” he grumbled, turning to stalk out the door.

Oikawa felt a grin tease at the corners of his own mouth. “Ok, Iwa-chan,” he called out, adjusting his grip on his bag and running out to follow the shorter brunet to the club room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, HERE WE GO!
> 
> Now, there's a lot I want to do with this fic after I've advanced it to their established relationship. So I definitely wanted to ask you guys before continuing. (And this all depends on how I set up the next chapter, so I'd really appreciate some ideas before getting to work on that ^_^)
> 
> SO, here's a question for you: smut? 
> 
> Hear me out! I kind of want to write about how they gradually get more intimate with each other, but I know that this fic might be better off just sticking with the back and forth angst-to-fluff thing, just being purely innocent. Please let me know, because from where I am now, I can definitely set something up to lead into a smutty chapter. BUT, I don't want to stick a bunch of smut in a fic where it doesn't belong, if this would be better off staying nice and fluffy.
> 
> I would really appreciate it if you could all give me your thoughts on this, as I don't want to go crazy writing a bunch of more intimate things if it doesn't even really go with what I've written here so far.
> 
> I'm going to leave this question open for about a week and a half, ('cause I'm taking a little break lol) so after getting and reading through all your opinions, I'm going to promise chapter 14 the Sunday after next (October 9th) at the latest.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading so far, please comment with your opinion so I can continue the fic with confidence ^_^


	14. Idiot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy, I finally decided on what I'm going to do  
> Thanks for all your help! I'll explain a little more in the end notes if you feel like reading it

“Nice serve, Oikawa!” a few teammates yell out in unison as Oikawa raises the volleyball in his hand, taking a deep breath. _The same motions as always. I know them by heart._ His gaze flicked across the net, deciding on a place to aim his serve. He glanced at the line before him next, determining the length of each step he would have to take. _It’s the same as always. I’ve done this a million times._

With one last breath, Oikawa moved his arms in those same familiar movements, sending the volleyball high into the air. One, two, three steps, and then a tremendous leap that send a slight arc of dull yet familiar pain through his right knee. Keeping his gaze on the opposite side of the net, already knowing where the ball will be when his arm swings back around, he followed the same motions that had been ingrained in his brain time and time again. 

Despite the repetitive movements, Oikawa felt something was wrong even before his hand came into contact with the volleyball. Or rather, the fact that it didn’t. He felt the impact at his wrist instead, the weight of the volleyball pressing against the soft skin at the base of his hand instead of his palm. His gaze moved from his target to his hand even as his arm kept pushing the volleyball forward, and before he knew it he was landing hard on his feet and the ball was bouncing off the net and the whistle was signaling a point to the other side.

“It’s all good!” Hanamaki yelled from the other side of the court, lifting a foot to stop the volleyball that someone else had rolled under the net for him. “It’s only practice, right? It’s not like you’ve never made a mistake.”

Oikawa shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t gotten a single one in yet,” he mumbled half to himself, the pressure beginning to get to him. “I should’ve started practicing sooner…at this rate…” his words faded away as his gaze landed on Iwaizumi, who was on the other side of the court with Hanamaki. Iwaizumi hadn’t said a word to him all practice. Not a word in the locker rooms. Not a word in the hallway. Not a word since _“We’re going to be late for practice, Shittykawa.”_

Oikawa frowned to himself, staring curiously at Iwaizumi. If the darker-haired boy noticed his stare, he didn’t show it—only keeping his gaze fixed on his own teammate, who was preparing to serve. Oikawa flicked his eyes to the side with a slight sigh, crouching down as he waited for the serve.

Suddenly he heard a voice yelling, “Pay attention, Oikawa!” Snapping back to reality, Oikawa felt a rush of air to his right and lunged to the side, arms reaching out for a volleyball that had already slammed into the ground behind him. His entire body was suddenly jittery—it felt like all his nerves were snapping beneath his skin like firecrackers. _When did I even space out? I wasn’t even thinking about anything._

“You ok?” Matsukawa sent a curious look to Oikawa as he jogged back to retrieve the ball. Oikawa felt a nervous laugh in the back of his throat, but he swallowed it down because he knew it would give away his inexplicable uneasiness. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Oikawa answered, his voice slightly hoarse. He forced his mouth into a smile as he picked up the volleyball, hoping Matsukawa would accept his answer instead of prying. 

Of course, what would make he think the other third-year would _ever_ do that?

Matsukawa’s face mirrored Oikawa’s smile, only his was much more evil and much more worrisome. “Oh?” he said softly, “This isn’t because you’re feeling down about the lack of conversation you’ve had with your Iwa-chan, is it?” Oikawa was almost too shot to even respond with a proper glare. Matsukawa only shook his head and chuckled, thankfully leaving it at that and walking back to his position on the court. 

Oikawa let out another breath, as if it would relieve the tension in his chest—it didn’t—and rolled the volleyball under the net. Iwaizumi picked it up, still refusing to even look across the net to meet Oikawa’s eyes. The taller brunet pushed his fingers through his hair again—it was almost becoming a nervous habit for him—and glanced around at the rest of his teammates, then the few that were sitting out waiting to be subbed into the practice match. His eyes gravitated back to Iwaizumi, hoping that the shorter male would just look up and meet his eyes and maybe even smile or anything to calm Oikawa’s nerves.

“I’m subbing myself out,” Oikawa murmured softly when Iwaizumi did none of those things. Oikawa turned, motioning to one of the first-years on the bench—he’d known the kid’s name at some point, but now his emotions were too wrecked and his mind was too scrambled to remember anything. The first-year stood, a surprised look on his face, and jogged across the gym to the court.

“Oikawa-senpai?” he asked when he arrived, his blond hair falling almost over his eyes. _What was his name again?_

“I’m going to give you some extra time on the court, ‘kay?” Oikawa grinned, watching the first-year tentatively return the smile, but not without a hesitant shadow of suspicion in his green eyes.

“O-Ok,” the boy replied, taking Oikawa’s place as the captain made his way across the gym, ignoring the half-inquisitive and half-concerned stares of his teammates still on the court. The coach gave Oikawa a questioning look as the brunet reached the bench, taking a seat beside his other teammates.

“What was that about?” Coach Mizoguchi asked, arms crossed but his voice and face gentle. Oikawa had noticed his coach’s worried gaze since the beginning of the practice, watching every time the captain had failed a serve or missed a receive.

Oikawa waved his hand in the air dismissively, forcing yet another smile onto his too-tired face. “I’m just taking a break. Gotta lose the momentum of this losing streak I’ve gotten myself into, right?” 

Coach Mizoguchi nodded quickly. “Take your time. You did just get back, after all. Don’t push yourself. It’s only understandable that it takes a little longer than you’d expected to get back on your feet.” Oikawa only nodded back until the coach turned away and the captain could let the smile drop.

  


* * *

  


The practice seemed to go on longer than usual for Oikawa, since he wasn’t playing. He sat on the bench, really trying to focus on the practice match and give his teammates pointers. He really did try. But his mind just wasn’t in on it. His gaze kept wandering towards Iwaizumi, who never spared him a single glance the entire practice. Oikawa wanted to play, to get better—he really did. But he couldn’t stand facing Iwaizumi on the court while the other boy refused to even look at him for whatever reason. It did something strange to Oikawa’s heart, and something even stranger to his mind. _I can’t focus on a thing anyway._

After what felt like ages, the coach blew his whistle for the final time. “That’s all for today,” he called out, then added, “Third-years, it’s your turn to clean up today.” Oikawa let out a sigh when he realized he’d have to clean up with Hanamaki and Matsukawa probably bugging him the whole time. He stayed on the bench as the second- and first-years made their way to the locker room.

_Honestly, what’s up with Iwa-chan today?_ Oikawa repeated in his head for the millionth time that night. _It must’ve been something I did. He wasn’t like that in the morning, not at all…What did I do? I didn’t see him until…until he picked me up from my classroom…Did I say something?_ He tried to remember the short conversation that had occurred between them before they’d left the room. _There was that girl, I guess…Was that it? Is he mad because of that? Surely he knows…_

“Hey, Crappykawa.” Oikawa started at the familiar nickname, glancing up to see Iwaizumi standing in front of him, finally— _finally_ —looking at him.

“Iwa—” Oikawa started to smile, before he noticed the look on Iwaizumi’s face. His features were carefully composed, almost too carefully. His mouth was set in a straight and rigid line, his jaw clenched probably with the effort of keeping his eyebrows from drawing together in that familiar V-shape they always assumed whenever he was telling Oikawa off. 

The beginnings of the smile on Oikawa’s face quickly dropped, and he could feel his eyes going wide as if trying to take in all the information he possibly could without speaking. Somehow he knew that saying something—anything—would set off some sort of bomb. Better to stay silent, let Iwaizumi talk first. Then respond. _Respond correctly,_ Oikawa reminded himself. _Don’t ruin anything._

_Please don’t ruin anything._

Iwaizumi shifted his weight, letting out a sigh as if he was struggling to stay composed. Oikawa watched, waiting with anxiety running through his veins as the shorter brunet glanced behind him, where Hanamaki and Matsukawa were picking up the volleyballs silently, then back to Oikawa. “You’re such an idiot,” Iwaizumi finally said, the words edged with so much barely-suppressed anger that they cracked across the air between the two like a whip, causing Oikawa to jump slightly.

Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi for a moment, uncomprehendingly. He wanted to say something, say anything, just to fill the silence that followed Iwaizumi’s words. _You’re such an idiot._ The longer the silence drew out, the more the words sank in. _Iwa-chan…called me an idiot?_ Oikawa wasn’t sure why he was so shocked. Iwaizumi had always called him names. Only there was something different this time. Something about the real, pure anger in Iwaizumi’s voice.

_You’re such an idiot._ There had been an edge to those words. An undeniable edge. _You’re such an idiot._ Every syllable had been emphasized, every sound shaped with the intent of conveying anger. _You’re such an idiot._ And yet, despite the intent, there had been some sort of extra layer over the words, some sort of protection to suppress the rage that boiled under the syllables. _You’re such an idiot._ The suppression of the anger only made it all the more noticeable somehow, just as the carefully composed features of Iwaizumi’s face had hinted towards a storm underneath. _You’re such an idiot._

Oikawa could feel the sting in his eyes, and commanded himself not to cry. He would _not_ cry, he would _not_ break down from just _one sentence_ that Iwaizumi had probably said to him countless times. _You’re such an idiot. You’re such an idiot. You’resuchanidiotyou’resuchanidiotyou’resuchan—_

_Idiot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so basically I'm going to give the story a little more angst, then really build it up until it feels like the story would be incomplete _without_ a smut chapter. Ya feel me? It's gonna go on for a bit more before I bring in the intimacy. You all good with that?  
>  (Also, a note on the chapter itself: The different years _probably_ don't take turns cleaning up, but it worked with what I'm gonna write so whatever.)


	15. Plan

Oikawa finally caught his breath. “W-What?” He breathed out the first word that came to his mind. Iwaizumi kept looking at him with that ill-disguised glare.

“You heard me,” he said, each word still infused with that agonizing barely-controlled anger that induced shivers down Oikawa’s spine. “You’re an idiot. A dumbass. A moron. What the hell was that, halfway through practice?”

Oikawa stared for a moment, before realizing that the question wasn’t rhetorical. “I—uh, I was just taking a break, bec—”

“Bullshit.”

Oikawa couldn’t help his gaze from flicking helplessly behind Iwaizumi, where Hanamaki and Matsukawa were still collecting the fallen volleyballs, not saying a word. They didn’t even look up to meet his eyes. He glanced back to Iwaizumi with a slight flinch when he saw the other boy’s hardened gray eyes. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he just waited for Iwaizumi to speak again.

After another pause, the shorter brunet let out a sharp exhale. “I don’t get it, y’know? I don’t get you, Oikawa.”

Shifting his weight slightly on the bench, Oikawa bit his lip uncomfortably as he tried to form a reply. _What does he want me to say? What is he trying to say? Why am I not understanding any of this?_ “Iwa-chan,” he started, hesitantly, and he shouldn’t have worried about what he was going to say because Iwaizumi cut him off anyway.

“Don’t give me that,” Iwaizumi huffed, tugging his hand through his spikey hair. “Of course, I didn’t know how well you’d play after not practicing for so long, but to just give up like that…that’s not like you. So, what’s wrong with you?”

Oikawa glanced back at the other third-years, now at the other end of the gym, then back to Iwaizumi. “I—uh, I just couldn’t—I couldn’t focus, and I thought—”

“What?” Iwaizumi interrupted, his voice only getting harder. “What’d you think, Oikawa? That you’d just quit? In the middle of practice? What a great role model you must think you are, giving up just because you can’t get something right.”

Now Oikawa could feel the sting behind his eyes, and was grateful when Iwaizumi finally stopped talking because if he had gone on for any longer, Oikawa wouldn’t have been able to hold back his tears. He honestly didn’t even understand why he felt like crying—it’s not like he and Iwaizumi had never had a fight before. Somehow this seemed different, though. This wasn’t a fight between just friends anymore. 

He took a deep breath, pushing back the thought of tears and talking through the tightness of his throat. “Iwa-chan, I couldn’t concentrate on the game…I just…I don’t want to fight, ok?” He could hear the pathetic pleading in his voice as he said the last part. “Iwa-chan?” he half-breathed when the shorter brunet didn’t immediately answer.

Iwaizumi glanced away, breaking eye contact. “Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff and slightly less angry than it had been before. “Let’s just clean up.” He turned away, stalking past Hanamaki and Matsukawa to grab the now-full cart of volleyballs and wheel it to the storage closet in the corner. Oikawa was still for a moment, then shook his head and stood up. _I should help them with the nets._

With a sigh, he made his way to the other third-years, who were already starting to take down the nets. They both gave him slightly pitiful looks before greeting, “Hey, Oikawa,” simultaneously. Oikawa was too tired and confused to even bother with a reply, so he just waved vaguely and took a corner of the net to help them fold it up. He should’ve known they wouldn’t have left it at that.

“So,” Hanamaki started hesitantly, with a glance at Matsukawa before continuing. “You and Iwaizumi…?” Oikawa resisted the urge to growl at him, settling instead for an ominous expression that would hopefully stop the conversation right there. _But then again, when has that ever worked?_

Matsukawa cleared his throat. “It’s not easy, y’know…but don’t worry, he’ll get over it. In fact, he’ll probably be over it by the time you guys leave.”

Oikawa _did_ glance up at this, the knowing tone in Matsukawa’s voice piquing his interest. “You…Do you know what he’s mad about?”

A smile. _A fucking smile._ It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but it didn’t escape Oikawa’s sharp gaze. “Well,” Matsukawa breathed, “I don’t think it’s my place to…well, I shouldn’t…” He seemed genuinely conflicted.

Oikawa sighed. “Just _tell_ me, so I can fix it already!”

Hanamaki grabbed Oikawa’s corner of the net, folding it against his own and leaving the taller brunet empty-handed. “Oikawa,” the light-haired boy said seriously, “Not everything can be fixed that easily, y’know. This is probably something you guys have to figure out for yourselves.”

Oikawa groaned. “Don’t give me that,” he moaned in defeat, then paused when he realized he was echoing Iwaizumi’s words from earlier. _Don’t give me that._

“But don’t worry about it!” Matsukawa held up a hand, putting the other over his heart. “Like the good fellow classmates we are, Makki and I have a plan to help you guys out.”

“Yes!” Hanamaki grinned, raising a hand for a high-five from Matsukawa. “We’re going to end this lovers’ quarrel once and for all!”

Oikawa moaned again, putting his head in his hands. “Don’t call it that,” he mumbled as the other two third-years chuckled. He lifted his eyes, peeking through his fingers at them. “Wait, you…you’re really going to help?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Hanamaki waved a hand. “What kind of friends do you think we are, anyway? We are going to help the _shit_ out of you.” Oikawa couldn’t help a frown from curling at his lips.

“That sounds kind of like a threat.”

Matsukawa laughed. “That did sound really awkward…please don’t ever say that again.” He earned a grimace and a light click of the tongue from the other boy. 

“So,” Oikawa broke in, “How exactly are you planning on…helping?”

Matsukawa frowned at him. “Don’t sound so doubtful. We said already, we have a plan.”

“Ok…” Oikawa said hesitantly. “Um, what is this plan of yours?”

“That,” Matsukawa snapped his fingers, “is a secret.”

Immediately, Oikawa was shaking his head. “Nope,” he sighed, “It’s something stupid, isn’t it. It’s something really, really stupid, something that’s probably going to make everything worse than it already is. Something I would completely regret ever agreeing to. So no. Not doing it.”

Hanamaki let out an exasperated sigh. “Not _doing_ it? Oikawa, you don’t understand. _You_ don’t _do_ anything. Matsukawa and I”—he pointed to the brunet and himself respectively—“we set everything up, see. All we’re going to do is—”

“Hey, hey!” Matsukawa hushed him, “What happened to it being secret?”

Hanamaki waved him off. “I’m not going to give it away, I’m just saying, we’re going to set up the perfect stage for you and Iwaizumi. Something that’ll let you have a real heart-to-heart without—” Matsukawa clapped a hand over Hanamaki’s mouth, cutting off his voice.

“You’ve said too much,” the darker brunet said gravely, and Hanamaki rolled his eyes as he pulled the hand away from his mouth.

“Mattsun doesn’t want you to know exactly what we’re going to do. He thinks it’ll, quote, ‘ruin the moment.’ Unquote. So, you’ll just have to trust us on this one.”

Oikawa sighed, as the thought of trusting the two third-years seemed ridiculously stupid even in the current couldn’t-possibly-get-worse situation, but he comforted himself with the fact that he could hardly do anything about it. _Makki and Mattsun always do their own thing, anyway…_ “Please,” he said softly, “This just…I can’t mess this up, ok?”

The two put on equally grave faces and gave one simultaneous nod. 

“We understand.”

“Completely understand.”

“We’re going to fix this all up for you.”

“Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Yup, just do you.”

“Let us do the rest.”

“Just remember to breathe.”

“Yes. Breathing is important. Don’t forget that.”

“Why would he forget how to breathe?”

“I’m not saying he _would_ , I’m just saying _not_ to.”

“Oh my God, your idiocy startles me sometimes.”

“You were the one that mentioned the breathing thing anyway.”

“Well, you were the one that made it stupid.”

“It was always stupid. You said it.”

“It became even more stupid when you repeated it.”

“How is that even stupid? Breathing _is_ important.”

“I know that! I was the one who said it!”

“Exactly! Which is why it was stupid!”

“But you just said—! Gah, never mind!”

The level of frustration rising in Oikawa was becoming almost too much to handle. Finally he decided to break in, eyebrows twitching and hands clenched. “Alright!” he almost shouted, waving a hand between them. “Alright already, you’re both stupid, problem solved. Now, can we _please_ focus?” At least the other two third-years had the decency to look vaguely ashamed—though honestly the expressions were so hard to decipher they could’ve just as easily been of amusement.

“Sorry, Cap,” Hanamaki gave a flimsy salute, while sticking out his tongue slightly in a teasing imitation of Oikawa’s signature expression. “We’ll keep focused. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah,” Matsukawa agreed with a slightly annoyed frown at Hanamaki. “Just breathe.” Hanamaki swung around to match his glare, and Oikawa let out a frustrated groan. But before another argument could start, a different voice interrupted them.

“Are we going to put this stuff away, or are you just going to stand in the middle of the gym all night?” The three looked over to see Iwaizumi walking over to them. _Either he’s not angry anymore, or he’s hiding it really well,_ Oikawa noted with a slightly nervous flinch. Iwaizumi’s voice was hard, yes, but not angry. Well, not as angry as it had been before. 

_Iwa-chan,_ Oikawa wanted to say.

_Yeah, Shittykawa?_ He wanted Iwaizumi to respond, to lose that edge of ice on his words. He wanted them to just go back to the way they were. The tension was beginning to get to him—it was making him nervous, expectant, anxious over every little move that Iwaizumi made and every word he said.

_Why can’t we just go back?_ Oikawa found himself pleading in his head. _I never caused this—I didn’t do anything! I just want him to tell me what’s wrong, I just want to fix this! Why the hell can’t he just talk to me? Why is he acting like this? If this isn’t going to work out…maybe we were better off just being friends anyway._

Suddenly Oikawa was brought back to reality with a harsher-than-necessary jab in the stomach. For a moment he was ecstatic, expecting to see Iwaizumi in front of him with that same old mock-angry expression on his face. But when his eyes came into focus, he saw Matsukawa holding the folded-up volleyball net out to him.

“Here,” the darker brunet said, as Oikawa reflexively took the net in his hands. “Go put this away. Iwaizumi, you grab those posts, and Makki and I will get the other two.” Numbly, Oikawa obeyed, making his way across the gym, tense at the feeling of Iwaizumi’s presence behind him. He glanced back once, only to see Hanamaki giving him a thumbs up. _What…?_

_‘Just do you,’_ Hanamaki mouthed, and Oikawa sighed.

_I’ve_ been _doing me—it hasn’t seemed to work out so far._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would u believe me if i said i actually know what's gonna happen next?


	16. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry it took me literally forever to update and also sorry for the short chapter (have my chapters been getting shorter and shorter? oml). Some idiot decided to go and die so I've been doing the typical mourning thing that most normal people do when that happens...sorry if this chapter's kinda shit because of that :) I'll fix it soon, I promise

Oikawa _wanted_ to say something, so badly. But his mind had gone completely blank. The walk across the shiny gym floor seemed to take forever, and Iwaizumi’s unhappy presence behind him made Oikawa more disconcerted than ever. Eventually Oikawa had to glance back, had to meet his friend’s— _boyfriend’s_ —gray eyes, just once. Once.

“I-Iwa-chan,” he barely breathed as their gazes met, if only to fill the silence. Iwaizumi didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull his gaze away either. It was as if he didn’t hear—only Oikawa knew he heard. _Wrong thing,_ Oikawa thought to himself, _wrong thing to say. What’s the right thing, then?_

With a slight sigh of anxiety, Oikawa turned back to face forward, gripping the folded volleyball net tightly to his stomach. _What does he want me to do…? What does he want me to say…? Why am I unable to figure this out on my own?_ He found himself almost shivering with nervousness as thoughts ran through his head. _What the hell did I do?!_

The storage room was too small, too dim, and Oikawa hesitated at the entrance, the now-familiar anxiety pulsing through his veins and pounding in his head. He gripped the volleyball net tightly, curling his fingers around the thin strings until they dug into his skin, focusing his spiraling attention. Iwaizumi huffed a breath behind him—it couldn’t have been described as impatient, but how else would anyone in Oikawa’s position interpret it?—and suddenly Oikawa’s muscles were working again, pushing him into the storage closet and to the corner where the nets were stored.

As if annoyed by Oikawa’s nervousness, Iwaizumi finally spoke. “Listen, Oika—” _SLAM!_

Suddenly the already-dim room was wrapped in the clutches of darkness.

Immediately Oikawa could feel the terror racing through him—constricting his heart until he felt like he was going to explode, yanking on his stomach until he felt like he was going to vomit, and pulling at his head until he felt like he was going to fall over. He sucked in a sharp breath at the initial fear, and a random voice at the back of his head said something like, _I wonder when I’ll be able to breathe again._

Through his muddled mind, he could make out the familiar voices of Hanamaki and Matsukawa. 

“Just for a little—”

“Until you can get along—”

“Tired of listening to all your shit—”

“Give you some time—”

Oikawa felt a harsh impact hit his knees and vibrate up his legs, realizing that he had fallen to the ground. His head was spinning from the lack of oxygen, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t breathing. Wait, no—was he breathing? Oikawa put a shaking hand over his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his lungs underneath. _Why can’t I get any air?_

He heard Iwaizumi yelling something, heard pounding on the door. The loud noises echoed through Oikawa’s dizzy mind, and he put his hands over his ears as his head fell forward onto his chest. “Iwa-chan,” he choked out, his throat tightening around the sounds as hot tears began to run down his face. He hated the tears, hated the weakness, hated himself.

“Makki, Mattsun, this isn’t a joke!” Iwaizumi was yelling, and Oikawa struggled to comprehend the words. “I’m serious, open the fucking door!” Suddenly his voice softened slightly, nervously saying, “Oikawa, calm down…it’ll be ok, I promise…” as if the simple words would make everything better. Oikawa’s head was pounding and spinning dizzily from the lack of air, and he felt nausea rise in his throat.

“Iwa—” he attempted, but the name cut off in a sob halfway through. Iwaizumi only let out a soft growl of frustration, a slightly louder _bang_ conjuring an image to Oikawa’s mind of the short brunet kicking the door. 

“I’m _serious!_ ” Iwaizumi shouted against the door. His voice became warbled in Oikawa’s confused head, his words mixing around and jumbling together. Tears of fear pulled themselves from Oikawa’s eyes, taking it upon themselves to drip freely down his cheeks as he grit his teeth against the pain spiking through his head. He couldn’t fully understand Iwaizumi, but he could pick out softly spoken phrases like _“it’s fine”_ and _“it’s going to be ok,”_ and he could pick out loudly yelled phrases like _“punch your faces in”_ and _“panic attack”_ and _“not a joke.”_ Oikawa’s stomach clenched suddenly, the terror building up until it had to be released in some way.

Suddenly light flooded into the room again, along with nervous voices.

“Wait, Captain isn’t really—”

“What were you _thinking_ —”

“Is he ok—”

“How could you—”

“Why is Oikawa—”

The fear from before had been too much, and it still wasn’t fading. Feeling the acidic bile rise in his throat, Oikawa’s body jolted forward as his breath was cut off completely. The vomit burned the back of his throat, then his mouth, and his shoulders were wracked with desperate heaves as his body fought to expel his stomach’s contents. He felt a pair of hands against his trembling shoulder but he couldn’t respond, couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t tear his wide-open eyes from a square of light on the floor a half-foot in front of him as his body kept revolting against him. 

“Oikawa,” he heard, spoken in a familiarly soft voice, then repeated, louder. “Oikawa!” Oikawa fought to catch his breath as the terror still pulsed through his veins, unable to still his shaking limbs or stop the tears from escaping his eyes. After what seemed like years, Oikawa was able to draw in a breath of air, and realized that the burning in his mouth and throat was beginning to fade. His lungs spasmed and shuddered as they fought for oxygen.

He felt a soothing hand across his back, rubbing in small circles. Oikawa gasped in another breath of air, still shaking. His exhale came out as a small whine, and he felt the warmth of another body press closer to his. “It’s ok,” he heard the murmured voice, immediately recognizing Iwaizumi’s presence beside him, “It’s ok, Oikawa.” The words, spoken with such gentleness and concern, were the breaking point.

Oikawa choked on a sob, and before he knew it he was leaning against Iwaizumi, fingers gripping the shorter brunet’s shirt as his tears soaked into the fabric. “Iwa—” he choked, the tears hot on his face but Iwaizumi’s body warmer. He felt Iwaizumi shift and draw his arms around Oikawa’s shoulders. Body shaking and shuddering with the sobs now, Oikawa melted into Iwaizumi’s touch and allowed himself to be held, losing all control of himself as the tears poured incessantly. 

“Go,” he heard Iwaizumi say, voice quiet but hard, but he knew it wasn’t addressed to him. “Just…go.”

Oikawa heard a soft chorus of “We’re sorry” and “Really didn’t mean to” and “Will he be ok?” There was a moment of quiet as Hanamaki and Matsukawa awaited a response, but Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. His grip around Oikawa’s back tightened slightly, and he pulled the brunet closer, pushing a hand against the back of Oikawa’s head to protectively hold him to his own chest. Oikawa let out another shuddering breath, turning his face against Iwaizumi’s chest to hide his tear-stained face from the other two third-years.

Eventually—after a long moment of silence from Iwaizumi—the two let out simultaneous “Sorry!”s and their footsteps rapidly faded. Oikawa clutched at Iwaizumi, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and leaning into him as his desperate pants gradually slowed into regular breaths. Iwaizumi kept his hold tight and protective, rubbing one hand over Oikawa’s back and the other over his head.

There were too many questions still swirling through Oikawa’s mind, too many emotions conflicting with each other, and overall too much confusion and chaos. But his body was as spent as his head, and the exhaustion from the terror he’d been through eventually caught up with him and tugged at his eyelids. As much as he hated to face the darkness again, he felt comforted and lulled by Iwaizumi’s steady breathing against him.

And so, Oikawa allowed his eyelids to droop shut and his mind to go blank, letting all his thoughts and worries disappear into the darkness that he hated so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moment of honesty here: The real reason I decided to write the entire story from Oikawa's perspective is because I couldn't decide on how I wanted him to look when he cried. Like, would he cry ugly? How would Iwa interpret his crying look? I don't know.
> 
> Also, I'm pretty sure "spasmed" isn't even a word, but I keep using it so whatever. You know what I mean.


	17. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this all in one sitting and it isn't proofread so if there's any mistakes let me know :P

_“When did you start thinking you were good at this?” The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating through Oikawa’s skull. “When did you start thinking you could beat me?” A figure came into shape before him, the deep voice and broad shoulders tugging familiarity at the back of Oikawa’s mind._

_The figure changed slightly, shrinking and morphing into someone smaller. “When?” it said, its voice different now, painfully familiar, yet Oikawa couldn’t place it. “When did you start thinking you were good enough for me?”_

_Oikawa stared at the black, featureless figure before him. “Who are you?” he asked, but the words never got past his throat. They stuck there, and when he opened his mouth, nothing came out._

_“I’m sick of you,” the figure said, morphing with every word and speaking every syllable with a different voice. “You’re pathetic. You’re nothing to me.” The figure moved, swinging its arm, and Oikawa leapt back as a volleyball was thrown towards him. It landed on the ground before him, rolling slightly to come to a stop a foot or so in front of him._

_“Pick it up,” the figure said, the different voices blurring together to create a harsh sound that grated at Oikawa’s eardrums. Mindlessly obeying the order, Oikawa bent and lifted the volleyball from the ground. His fingers trembled, and the tricolored ball fell to the ground a moment later. The figure laughed harshly._

_“You’re PATHETIC!” it suddenly screamed, the blackness of its constantly changing shape suddenly morphing into something big and scary and threatening. “When will you UNDERSTAND?! You’re NOTHING! You can’t do ANYTHING on your own! What kind of person ARE you?”_

_Oikawa stared at the figure, struggling to comprehend the screeched words that were being thrown at him like blades. “I—” he tried to speak, but his body wouldn’t allow the words to leave his mouth._

_The figure came closer, growing in size, its strange form bleeding out tendrils of shadow that threatened to wrap around Oikawa’s neck and choke off his breath. When it spoke again, the words scraped against the back of Oikawa’s skull, echoing as if they were coming from the inside of his own head._

_“I’m SICK OF YOU!”_

  


* * *

  


Oikawa stared down at his hand, watching his fingers curl and uncurl. He couldn’t remember his dream, but he’d awoken suddenly just a few minutes prior with a feeling like he was out of control. He clasped his hands together, relishing the way his fingers fit together calmly and steadily, just the way they should. _Why shouldn’t they?_

He glanced around the bedroom—Iwaizumi’s bedroom, he noted—which was otherwise empty aside for him. The shade over the window was drawn closed, but the bright sun still streamed through it. “Shit!” Oikawa suddenly gasped, a voice in the back of his head reminding him that it was Tuesday morning. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa screeched as he stumbled out of the bed, tripping over the sheets as he fought to disentangle his legs, and banging his knee on the floor as he eventually made his way to the door. He swung it open, a nervous breath tugging itself from his lungs as he ran down the stairs and banged his way ungracefully into the kitchen, slamming his hand against the wall to keep himself from falling over.

“Iwa- _chan!_ ” Oikawa yelled again, his voice echoing through the obviously empty house just as his gaze was falling on the post-it note stuck to the kitchen table. With a soft growl of frustration, Oikawa stomped his way over to the table, smacking his palms down on either side of the note as he grated his gaze across the words written there.

_‘You had a rough day yesterday, so I decided to let you sleep in. I don’t think you should come to school today—give yourself another day off. Maybe it was a bit too soon after all. I’m skipping practice today, so I’ll be back sooner. Don’t get into too much trouble.’_

Oikawa glared at the words. “Stupid Iwa-chan,” he muttered, even as the memories from the night before pounded at his head. “He thinks I’m useless, doesn’t he.” He frowned at the note for a little longer, before letting out another sigh. He reread the words, _‘I don’t think you should come to school today.’_ “The hell?” he grumbled, rubbing at his forehead as if it would ease the pain of the headache that had just begun to make itself known. 

Making his way back to the bedroom, Oikawa sighed again, tugging his hand through his hair to distract himself from the growing pain of the headache. “Stupid Iwa-chan,” he repeated again, though there wasn’t enough anger in his voice even to convince himself.

_‘Maybe it was a bit too soon after all.’_

Oikawa reached the bedroom, and began to rifle through Iwaizumi’s clothes. _What the hell did he mean by that? ‘Too soon’? Does he think I’m not mentally prepared? Does he think I’m still weak? Is it because of what happened last night? Does he think—_ “Agh!” Oikawa huffed aloud, barely restraining himself from aiming a frustrated punch at the defenseless closet door before him. “What does he want me to _do?!_ ” 

Finally picking out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from Iwaizumi’s closet, Oikawa changed quickly and made his way through the house and out the front door. He’d forgotten to check the time, but when he walked outside the air was brisk enough to hint at early morning, and the sun wasn’t quite peeking over the rooftops of the neighboring houses yet. _So I didn’t wake up as late as I’d thought…_

Shaking his head slightly, Oikawa huffed a breath and tapped his sneakers against the ground before starting to jog down the sidewalk. It felt strange now, to jog alone—even before the whole ‘blind incident,’ as he now referred to it, he’d always jogged with Iwaizumi or the other third-years. It was their routine: meet up with Hanamaki and Matsukawa, and jog to school in time for morning practice.

Oikawa felt a twinge of pain in his right knee, and directed a frown at it. _I didn’t even practice that hard the other day…Hell, I even stopped halfway through. Why is it giving me trouble now?_ He leaned harder on his right leg, testing the amount of pain he received from each step. It wasn’t much—certainly not enough to stop him.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent running. The sun was getting hotter in the sky, and the air was getting warmer in his lungs. The pain was building not only in his knee, but in his head as well. The headache from that morning hadn’t gone away. Oikawa groaned softly as a particularly infuriating wave of pain washed over his head again, sending black spots dancing before his eyes.

His breath was beginning to cut into his lungs, and all his muscles burned. He blinked, his eyes stinging as sweat ran into them. Reaching up an arm to wipe the moisture off his face, Oikawa began to pant, sucking the air in through his mouth, as the agony throughout his body increased with every step. Eventually a cramp began to slice into his abdomen, and Oikawa remembered he’d forgotten to eat breakfast. 

Accepting his fate, Oikawa slowed to a walk and then stopped, dropping his hands to his knees as he panted. He glanced around, wondering where the hell he even was. He’d meant to follow the sidewalk straight for the most part, but as he searched his memory now, he seemed to recall taking quite a few turns.

He straightened out, clutching an arm around his stomach as the painful cramp stayed just as painful, bending slightly to inspect his knee. It didn’t look swollen, but he couldn’t deny the pain he felt from it any longer. _I should probably go back…I need to eat something. I wonder what time it even is...or where I even am._ With a sigh, he plunged a hand into his pocket to grab his pho—

Wait.

_Did I seriously forget my phone?_

“This is bad,” Oikawa groaned, searching his other pocket even though he already knew he’d left it behind. “Fuck, this is bad.” He didn’t recognize any of the buildings around him, and he could now distinctly remember his phone, plugged in and dutifully charging on Iwaizumi’s nightstand, where he had walked right past it that morning.

Oikawa took a breath, leaning down to rub his knee as he thought. “It’s ok,” he voiced aloud, the calmness of his own words slowing his heart. “It’s not like I was running forever—I’ll just go back the way I came, and I’ll recognize the neighborhood eventually. I run around here all the time, I’ve never gotten lost before.” Well. That was a lie. He actually _had_ gotten lost quite a few times, even on the streets closest to his house. He’d never admit it, of course, but it was one of the reasons he rarely jogged alone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes until it hurt. “Ah, God.” He took another deep breath, glancing around again at his surroundings. “Ok,” he breathed, turning back the way he’d come. “Just…retrace my steps.”

  


* * *

  


The retracing of his steps had gone unsurprisingly not-very-well. Now he was more lost than ever, with pain biting at his knee and gnawing at his head, and the hunger from the skipped breakfast—and now lunch—beginning to eat at his stomach. Oikawa had stopped jogging a while ago, and was now morosely walking along the sidewalk, eyes scanning for any landmarks or recognizable aspects of the neighborhood. The problem was, he _never_ paid attention when he ran, and he’d always relied on Iwaizumi or whoever else he was with to lead the run.

“This is the worst,” he moaned aloud, his hands in his infuriatingly empty pockets— _if only I’d remembered my FUCKING PHONE_ —and he was just tired of everything. It was his own fault he’d gotten lost, his own fault he’d somehow chased Iwaizumi away, his own fault he’d been so incredibly useless all the times he shouldn’t have been.

It was his own fault that he couldn’t even do anything for himself.

It certainly wasn’t his first time thinking this—he’d often wondered where the breaking point was, how long Iwaizumi would actually put up with him and keep him around. Of course, he knew his friend— _boyfriend,_ he had to keep correcting himself, though now he wasn’t as sure anymore—would never completely hang him out to dry, but there had to be a point where Iwaizumi finally realized that Oikawa wasn’t part of his life, and wasn’t necessary in it.

_Is this that point now?_

Oikawa squinted up at the sky, wondering if that was how people told time back before phones were invented. The sky didn’t tell him a damn thing—all that the action accomplished was an aching imprint of the sun’s light caught in his eyes. “I’m done,” Oikawa muttered as he rubbed the pain from his tired eyes. “If anyone can convince me that the world doesn’t hate me, I will fucking kiss them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve found I have a passion for writing nightmare scenes. Also, in terms of Oik wearing Iwa’s clothes, I’m just kind of ignoring their height and size differences for now.


	18. Afraid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, 'cause I'm a useless writer who has no time :P

“If anyone can convince me that the world _doesn’t_ hate me, I will fucking kiss them.”

“A kiss, huh?” a voice called out. Oikawa started, jerking around to see a familiar figure approaching him. There was a grin on Watari’s face as the second-year walked up to his senior. “And what was the price for that, again?”

“Watachi,” Oikawa felt a surprised grin tugging at his lips. Watari had a matching smile, though it was tinged with curiosity. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

The second-year frowned slightly. “Wait, what? What are _you_ doing here?”

Oikawa let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, I _was_ running,” he began, his tone equally exasperated, “but I kind of forgot where I was going, and…” he let his voice trail off.

Watari let out a laugh. “Oh, god, you’re _lost?!_ ” he yelped in disbelief. “The Grand King is actually lost. Oh, God, this is priceless. The third-years would _lose it_ —heh, get it?—if they were here, oh G—”

“Shut up,” Oikawa whined, “I’ve had a rough day, ok?”

The second-year just shook his head, still chuckling. “Ah, God…it’s just…” he pointed down the street, to where it intersected with another road. Oikawa followed the direction of his finger, groaning as his eyes landed on a street sign— _his_ street’s sign. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mumbled, realizing that he’d walked all the way around the neighborhood in a huge circle. Not to mention, if he’d only looked up and recognized the sign, he wouldn’t have to deal with Watari’s teasing laughter.

“Ah, jeez,” Watari gasped out, wiping at his eyes—even though Oikawa could see they were dry—with a dramatic flair. “Why weren’t you at school, anyway?”

“Eh,” Oikawa hesitated, not quite sure how to respond. There was no way in _hell_ he was going to tell a second-year—that he was the captain of—that he’d had a panic attack the night before. After volleyball practice. In the storage closet. With Iwaizumi and the other third years there. No way was he saying that. “I was…sick.”

“Uh-huh,” Watari said, his tone far from belief, but he didn’t pry, which Oikawa was grateful for. “Well, whatever. Anyway, we’re going to miss you for practice. Don’t wanna join us?”

“Join you?” Oikawa frowned. “Wait, practice already started?”

Watari rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Oh, my God, do you not have a phone? School ended a half-hour ago. The team’s jogging around the neighborhood to warm up. Since you’re here, do you want to—hey, where are you going?” 

Oikawa had turned sharply back to the street sign at the end of the road, and had already been making his way towards it in a panic when Watari’s raised voice stopped him. “Ah,” Oikawa called back, his mind recalling Iwaizumi’s written _‘I’m skipping practice today, so I’ll be back sooner. Don’t get into too much trouble.’_ “I just…remembered I had something to do.”

Watari gave him a weird look. “Are you…ok? You were really off last practice, and now you’re skipping school _and_ volleyball…”

“I’m fine!” Oikawa grinned, finding the usually-easy curl of the lips to be unnaturally difficult. His words stuck to the inside of his throat. _Iwa-chan’s going to kill me…he’s actually going to kill me…_ “I’ll catch up in the group chat later, ‘kay? I gotta go—bye, Watachi!”

Watari raised his hand in a hesitant wave, and Oikawa made his way to the adjoining street as fast as he could without sprinting. The second he turned the corner and was blocked from the second-year’s sight, he sped down the street to Iwaizumi’s house, ignoring the fresh bloom of pain in his knee from every step. _How did that much time even pass?! Oh, God, he’s seriously going to be pissed…Agh, if there was any one thing that would piss him off even more than he is already, this would definitely be it. Great job, Tooru. You’re obviously a pro at mending relationships._

His sneakers slid across the sidewalk as he came to a stop at the house, and then he fled to the front door, flinging it open. _He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me…_ Oikawa took a breath, then two, then nervously called out, “…Iwa-chan?”

Instead of the stony silence he’d been half-expecting, Oikawa heard a familiar voice filtering through the house. “Oikawa?!” There was a loud bang from upstairs, which Oikawa winced at, and then Iwaizumi appeared at the top of the stairs just as Oikawa began to toe off his shoes.

“What the hell!” Iwaizumi immediately started, just as Oikawa had expected, but he didn’t seem as angry as he had the other day. He barreled down the stairs, stopping a foot or so from Oikawa and reaching up to flick his forehead. 

“Ow!” Oikawa whined dramatically, putting his palm over his barely-stinging forehead and forming his lips into a pout, emboldened by the lack of real anger in Iwaizumi’s expression and actions.

“Shut up!” Iwaizumi scowled, though his eyes seemed more worried than anything. “I said I was coming home early, didn’t I? And you just decide to”—he glanced at Oikawa’s apparel—“go running? _Without_ your phone? Which now has 12 missed calls and 27 texts, by the way. What were you—”

He was interrupted by a faint growl from Oikawa’s stomach. A light smile flitted across Oikawa’s lips as he watched the way Iwaizumi’s gaze flicked to the kitchen—probably taking in the noticeable lack of dishes in the sink—then back to Oikawa. 

“You didn’t eat anything, did you.”

It wasn’t a question, but Oikawa shook his head anyway. Iwaizumi sighed, shaking his own head slightly. “You really are useless, aren’t you…” he muttered half to himself, and Oikawa stiffened. There was really no reason to—no reason to be hurt by the words at all. And yet… _What if he really is sick of me?_

“I’ll go make you something,” Iwaizumi interrupted Oikawa’s thoughts, and he looked up to meet his eyes. “And…there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Immediately the blood was pulsing through Oikawa’s fingertips, and the nerves were tingling through his body. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah,” he agreed softly, noting Iwaizumi’s uncharacteristically hesitant attitude. _He’s definitely going to get rid of me. Why would he want me in the first place? Why did I ever think I would get him to fall in love with me? It wasn’t going to work out from the start—best friends can’t be boyfriends. That doesn’t work. He’s obviously figured out that we’re not going to work out. He figured it out before I did. He probably had it all figured out yesterday, but then my panic attack interrupted his breakup speech...That would explain everything, that would explain it all, but then why…?_

Oikawa stared into Iwaizumi’s gray eyes, taking in the sheen of concern overlaid with another strangely complex emotion that Oikawa couldn’t decipher. _Why do I still love you? Why do I still want you?_

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi spoke, his voice low. “Are you…are you really ok?”

_Bite._ He dug his teeth into the inside of his cheek, biting hard until his mouth tasted metallic. It was the only way to stop the tears from flowing. And, even if they did flow, it was from the pain in his mouth. Definitely not the overly-concerned tone in Iwaizumi’s voice, definitely not the worried expression on Iwaizumi’s face, and definitely not the fact that right now, despite the tense air around then, all Oikawa wanted to do was pull Iwaizumi closer and kiss the frown off those soft lips.

Iwaizumi turned away with a quiet, “Ok,” at Oikawa's lack of response and made his way to the kitchen. Oikawa watched him go, a loss tugging at his chest already with every step the shorter brunet took.

Suddenly a wave of intense guilt crashed over Oikawa, so strong that he half-stumbled back, having to reach out a hand behind him to steady himself against the front door. _He never really wanted it, did he…_ Oikawa thought back to everything that had happened between them since the ‘blind incident.’ _He had to take care of me…for so long…he had to have been sick of me by then. Even now, I’m still just as useless. And then…who was the one that confessed first? Was it me?_ In his muddled memory, Oikawa pictured himself leaning forward over the bed, pressing softly against Iwaizumi’s surprised and non-reciprocating lips. _Did I…force him into it? What did he say after that? Was he just going along, to keep me happy?_

His head began to ache, random thoughts and half-recalled memories whirling around. He shook his head, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. Suddenly a voice called out to him. “You can come in, you know,” Iwaizumi called from the kitchen, “You don’t have to stand in front of the door forever.” There was a slight edge of sarcasm to the words, and the way they grated over the back of Iwaizumi’s throat shocked Oikawa into immediate obedience.

Oikawa gradually came to his senses, mumbling some half-thought-out response and making his way to the living room, plopping down on the couch and drawing his knees up as he waited for Iwaizumi to finish cooking. He wrapped his arms tightly around his legs, resting his forehead against the tops of his knees as the pain in his right knee shot back to life. He let out a long sigh, struggling to sort out everything in his mind. 

He could sense the pause of movement in the kitchen, hear the sudden absence of sound, and feel the heat of Iwaizumi’s gaze on him. But he didn’t lift his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh? Ehh??!!?!?
> 
> I don't know what the fuck I'm writing anymore


	19. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapter titles are shit oml
> 
> Also this chapter took an eternity to write, I'm so sorry

_He doesn’t want me. He’s going to leave me. Why would anyone ever want me in the first place? Why did I ever think I could have anything real with anyone? But he’s Hajime…he’s Iwa-chan. He wouldn’t hurt me._

_Please don’t hurt me, Iwa-chan._

Oikawa started at Iwaizumi’s voice. “Your food’s ready,” the brunet called from the kitchen. Oikawa took a deep breath, sliding his legs away from his body so that he could stand. A wave of dizziness passed over him, and fuzzy darkness coaxed at the edges of his vision. His knee gave a painful stab of complaint when he put pressure on it, and an aching pain spread through all his muscles. He grit his teeth against it all, focusing on drawing in oxygen until the blackness faded from his sight.

The kitchen seemed impossibly far away—a terrifying path to an even more terrifying destination. Oikawa walked evenly, but with every step his unease grew. His mind spun out conversations, all the things that Iwaizumi would say, all the things that Oikawa would say back. _How did it ever come to this?_ He bit his lip, anxiety racing through him. _We could just be best friends right now, like always…I ruined it…If only I hadn’t…_

Before he knew it, his legs had carried him to the kitchen, and he was standing in front of Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi was looking at him with those gray eyes— _those fucking eyes_ —and Oikawa’s heart was beating too fast, and the smell in the air made Oikawa’s stomach grumble, and there was food on the table behind Iwaizumi, but Oikawa couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his gaze away from those eyes that immediately locked onto his own and held him in place.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi started, then hesitated. He cleared his throat, then softly said, “Tooru.”

Oikawa’s lungs were in his throat, and it hurt to breathe, and suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore, because his stomach was clenching around what felt like a rock, and the kitchen was too hot and too bright and it made his face too easy to read and he was afraid of what Iwaizumi would find there, but he was even more afraid of what he would find on Iwaizumi’s face if the spiker let that calm and patient mask drop.

Iwaizumi was still looking at him, still keeping him frozen in place with that serious gaze, and Oikawa worked his throat for a moment so that when he replied with “Iwa-chan,” it would come out clearly and evenly. Only it didn’t, it didn’t at all, because the syllables somehow got caught in his throat and tangled around each other on his tongue so that when he opened his mouth he’d forgotten when he was going to say, and he’d forgotten what Iwaizumi had said in the first place, and his mind had gone completely blank with panic.

Finally Iwaizumi spoke again, and when he did, all he said was, “I’m sorry.”

Oikawa stared uncomprehendingly for a few moments, before his voice started working again. “W-What?” was the first thing that came to his mind, and the first thing that left his mouth.

Iwaizumi shifted, then said again, “I’m sorry. Tooru, I’m so sorry.” Oikawa was having trouble interpreting his own emotions at that point. Among the confusion in his head, there was a strange swirl of guilt and anger, though he wasn’t quite sure why, and in the very back of his mind, a strangely joyous voice called out, _He called me Tooru._

Oikawa couldn’t think of a reply, so he waited until Iwaizumi spoke again. Only he didn’t. Instead, the shorter brunet stepped closer, standing inches away from Oikawa. Iwaizumi hesitated for a moment before holding his arms out. Oikawa wasn’t sure who stepped forward, or if they both did, but he was just glad to be enveloped in Iwaizumi’s warmth. He curled his own arms around Iwaizumi’s back, feeling the spiker tighten his embrace as well.

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi was whispering, his breath hot against Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa wasn’t sure what was happening, how he should feel, how he should react…so he did the only thing his mind was telling him to do, and gave in to Iwaizumi’s touch. The strain of standing was beginning to claw at his knee, but Oikawa braced himself against it. 

_Hajime,_ Oikawa thought, wondering how the name would taste on his tongue. He’d said it countless times, years ago, back before Iwaizumi had insisted they were too old to call each other by their given names. He wondered if it would feel different to say it now.

“Hajime,” he tried, the name falling from his lips on the faintest breath, but Oikawa was close to Iwaizumi’s ear and he could feel the way the spiker stiffened and he knew it had been heard. “Are—What—” Oikawa struggled to ask the questions he needed answers to. Iwaizumi hugged him tightly, and Oikawa let out a breath before finally asking, in a voice thick with emotion, “Are you going to leave me?”

Iwaizumi went rigid in Oikawa’s arms. After a moment of freezing silence, the shorter brunet pulled away, his hands clamps on Oikawa’s shoulders as the setter let his own arms drop to his sides. Oikawa could see the emotions flickering through Iwaizumi’s eyes. Confusion. Shock. The briefest flash of anger. Guilt. The same emotions that had been swirling through Oikawa for the entire day.

“No,” Iwaizumi whispered immediately, the puzzlement and surprise clear in his voice as he continued, “No, why would I ever leave you, why would you think that—” Oikawa glanced away, and Iwaizumi stopped talking. His grip tightened around Oikawa’s shoulders. “Hey. Look at me.” Hesitantly, Oikawa drew his eyes back up—which seemed to take much more effort than it normally should have—and met Iwaizumi’s serious gaze. “I’m _not_ going to leave you,” Iwaizumi stated, and suddenly his own gaze was wandering away and his voice was slightly less confident and more embarrassed as he added, “I _can’t_ leave you.”

Oikawa’s breath froze in his lungs, and he forced out, “B-But—” He was cut off before he could even think of what to say next. He could feel Iwaizumi’s hands moving, one hand curling back behind Oikawa’s head and gripping his hair, the other hand sliding from Oikawa’s shoulder to grip the fabric of his shirt. Oikawa knew it was coming, could feel the pull as Iwaizumi brought him closer. Closer. _Too close._ Closer. _No, not too close._ Closer. _Yes. Right there._

It was a slow tug forward, and even though Iwaizumi had both hands on Oikawa, there was ample time for the setter to pull back or push away. Instead, Oikawa leaned into the force of the pull, letting his muscles follow the suggestions that Iwaizumi wordlessly posed. Though the action was slow, allowing for any sort of rejection that didn’t even really come up in Oikawa’s mind, every movement was smoothly strung together, so when their lips finally met it didn’t feel wrong at all.

In the split second before they touched, the voice at the back of Oikawa’s head made one last observation before fading with the rest of his thoughts. _I guess that’s my answer._

The anxious anticipation in Oikawa must’ve been affecting him more than he’d thought, because his mind blanked out for a moment. Before he knew what had happened, his mouth was open and he was winding his tongue around Iwaizumi’s, and his hands were tangled in his boyfriend’s dark hair and for once he felt right using the word ‘boyfriend’ to describe Iwaizumi. He felt rather than heard Iwaizumi’s soft moan, and matched it with a small sound of his own.

The pain in his knee was almost too much. Between the painful ache of his joint and the relief that now flowed through him because _Iwa-chan isn’t mad at me, everything’s going to be fine,_ Oikawa felt his legs buckle beneath him. He broke the kiss, gasping for air even as his legs collapsed.

“H-Hey!” Iwaizumi let out a startled sound. Oikawa was bracing himself for the impact of the ground when he felt Iwaizumi’s strong grip around his waist, holding him up. “Are you ok?” the shorter brunet panted, his breath mingling with Oikawa’s. 

“Yeah,” Oikawa forced the word out breathlessly, leaning his forehead against Iwaizumi’s as he fought to catch his breath. “So—you’re _not_ mad?” He still couldn’t believe it. _Then what the hell happened?!_

Iwaizumi sighed, and said again, “I’m sorry,” and his voice was so heavy with guilt that it almost pained Oikawa to listen. But he did listen, because if he didn’t then Iwaizumi would be talking to no one but himself.

“Oika—” Iwaizumi stopped himself, then corrected, _“Tooru.”_

Oikawa felt a breathy laugh bubble up in his throat. “What’s with all this ‘Tooru’ all of a sudden?” He could feel Iwaizumi’s arms beginning to shake from holding them both up. “This is getting too domestic for me.” He made his tone light and teasing at the end, and was rewarded with a small smile from Iwaizumi.

“I just—” Iwaizumi hesitated. “I made some mistakes, and I—I just want to fix them.”

Oikawa didn’t want to cut off Iwaizumi in the midst of the heartfelt apology, but he had to say, “Ok, but—put me down already, before I pull us both down.”

Iwaizumi didn’t really frown, but the edges of his lips curled slightly downwards. “You can’t stand on your own?”

“Uh,” Oikawa let out a nervous laugh, “I may have bothered my knee a bit today…” Before Iwaizumi could say anything, Oikawa hurriedly added, “But it’s not bad, it’s not bad at all! Just a little pain, that’s all. I just need to rest it overnight.”

Iwaizumi sighed, his gaze sliding over to the kitchen table, where the chairs and food sat untouched and inviting. “You still hungry?” he murmured. Oikawa wordlessly shook his head. “Let’s get you to the couch, then. I’ll get some ice and wrap your knee, then we can talk.”

Oikawa still had no idea what Iwaizumi was sorry about, or what had caused the strange behavior from the days before, or what this meant for them. But Iwaizumi’s hopeful tone allowed Oikawa’s own hope to rise over the despair in his chest. And so, Oikawa tilted his head forward to meet Iwaizumi’s lips one more time, a soft feeling of pure joy filling him as his boyfriend immediately reciprocated the kiss.

“Then let’s talk…Hajime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy, where my Danganronpa fans at? 
> 
> Also I've been really busy with school lately, so this chapter's really short and really late because of that. I also have no idea when the next chapter's gonna be done (but don't worry, next chapter will definitely have some questions answered). Sorry in advance!
> 
> Also, who else saw that Dane Cook thing where he said all problematic couples always make up in the kitchen? Lmao


	20. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE QUARTERLIES TOMORROW BUT I WROTE THIS INSTEAD FML I'M TOO OBSESSED

The ice felt cool against Oikawa’s now-wrapped knee; which was slightly swollen, but not nearly enough to exhibit the screaming pain beneath the skin. Iwaizumi was quiet throughout the process of half-supporting Oikawa to the couch and tending to his aching joint. Despite Iwaizumi’s whispered _‘I’m sorry’_ from earlier, Oikawa couldn’t help the anxiety that thrilled through his veins at the lack of words now. 

When Iwaizumi finally finished adjusting the angle of the ice pack over Oikawa’s knee, he cleared his throat softly and glanced up, meeting Oikawa’s eyes. The setter blinked once. Twice. Trying to predict what would happen next.

“Um,” Iwaizumi said at last, breaking eye contact for a split second, before swinging his gray gaze back. “I—I really am sorry.”

Oikawa blinked a third time, feeling the pressure around his mouth indicating a frown and quickly relaxing his face to a more neutral expression. “Sorry for what?” he asked, keeping his voice carefully level.

Iwaizumi flicked his gaze away again. “Ah, about what happened on Monday…it wasn’t your fault, none of it was your fault, I just…” His voice faded away slowly, until the last word was a barely-heard whisper in the back of his throat. Oikawa held out a hand wordlessly, and Iwaizumi took it in both of his. His fingers were cold against Oikawa’s, trembling ever so slightly. _I’d be lying if I said my own fingers weren’t shaking,_ Oikawa let out a nervous exhale, _in fact, they’re probably trembling even harder._

“So,” Iwaizumi cleared his throat again, his eyes never staying in one place for more than a second. “I just…it was over something so stupid, and I just couldn’t…I’m really sorry, Oika— _Tooru,_ I’m really, really…” he stopped himself, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Oikawa stayed silent, not daring to speak, even as his heart broke a little with every pained word that fell from his boyfriend’s lips. 

Oikawa gave Iwaizumi’s hand a light squeeze, capturing those cold fingers beneath his own, as if it would still their trembling. He could see the unshed tears shining in Iwaizumi’s eyes, making their gray color flash silver, and it hurt, it hurt so badly to watch, because he had _never_ seen Iwaizumi cry. Not when they were seven, and Iwaizumi had fallen over Oikawa’s toys and slammed his forehead into the wall. Not when they were twelve, and Iwaizumi had tripped over a root on a trail while yelling at Oikawa and sprained his ankle. Not even recently, when Iwaizumi had stepped on the broken shards of Oikawa’s lamp in his rush to reach the panicking brunet.

And yet, through it all, Iwaizumi had never cried. Only now, _now_ he was about to cry. Because of Oikawa. _I did this to him._ The thought caused him almost more pain than he could handle, and he felt that now-familiar grip of emotion around his heart. 

“Don’t cry,” Iwaizumi whispered, and Oikawa let out a choked-off laugh when he realized there were already tears on his own cheeks. 

“I’m only”—he sniffed—“crying because you are.”

“I’m not crying,” Iwaizumi said, though his voice was uncertain and his eyes were swimming. “I’m not crying.” A single tear escaped, sliding down his cheek quickly—almost too quickly for Oikawa to catch, but he could see the light that reflected from the trail it left on Iwaizumi’s skin. “I’m not crying,” Iwaizumi said one last time, and then his shoulders began to shake and his hands left Oikawa’s to cover his own mouth, as if it would hold in the sobs.

Oikawa wanted to reach out, to hold him, but Iwaizumi was too far away, and Oikawa’s leg was propped up at a weird angle, and he had no idea what to do because _Iwa-chan’s never cried before, I caused this, this is all my fault, I was supposed to be his friend, his best friend, his_ boy _friend, and now I’m making him cry._

“I’m sorry,” Iwaizumi sobbed, “I’m sorry, Tooru.” His words sounded strange, choked with emotion. “I didn’t mean to—It wasn’t your fault at all, I s-swear.” 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathed, his voice gone. Watching Iwaizumi cry was one of the most painful things he’d ever put himself through. “Hajime,” he repeated, louder. Iwaizumi took a deep breath and looked up, clenching his teeth around the sobs that still wracked his shoulders. Oikawa felt his own throat close up with emotion, and he wordlessly spread his arms out—copying Iwaizumi from earlier that night. 

And, like Oikawa had done just a few minutes prior, Iwaizumi fell forward into the embrace.

“I really didn’t mean to,” Iwaizumi whispered against Oikawa’s neck, his tears wet against the captain’s skin. Oikawa wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s body, pulling him closer. He leaned back, letting gravity take over and pull his body flat against the couch, bringing Iwaizumi with him; Oikawa could feel the ice pack slip off his knee, hitting the ground with a wet smack as Iwaizumi repeated softly, “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. Tooru, I’m sorry.”

Oikawa shifted slightly, pressing his spine against the back of the couch and moving to let Iwaizumi fall next to him. He held him close, their faces inches apart and their legs linked together. “Hajime,” Oikawa breathed, “Please stop apologizing.” Iwaizumi screwed his eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners; he nodded silently. “Please,” Oikawa repeated, “Please stop crying.” Iwaizumi took a deep breath, opening his eyes slowly.

It took all of Oikawa’s energy to meet that gaze—that gaze so wrought with guilt and desperation and pleading and some strange sort of sadness that seemed incessantly deep. Iwaizumi drew in another breath, and when he exhaled Oikawa could feel the air against his own lips.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispered, so faintly and yet it would’ve been impossible for Oikawa to miss it. “I…I overreacted. Over something…so incredibly stupid. I…I made you feel as if…as if it was your fault, and it’s not, it’s not at all, but I—I just couldn’t—”

“It’s ok,” Oikawa murmured, running a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair, brushing his fingers through the soft strands, stroking him gently. The shorter brunet relaxed under his touch. 

“I—” Iwaizumi started again, then paused. “It wasn’t even your fault,” he repeated in the faintest breath, his eyes holding all the guilt in the world.

“It’s ok,” Oikawa repeated. “It’s ok.”

“Tooru, I—I love you, you know that, right?” Iwaizumi’s gaze seemed almost pleading. “You know, right?” he whispered.

“I know,” Oikawa murmured, on the verge of crying again. “I love you, Hajime. It—it doesn’t even matter what the reason was, you don’t have to tell me, I just—I want to make sure we’re going to be ok, right? We’re going to be fine?” He could hear the desperation in his own voice. Begging. _Pleading_ for the answer he wanted to hear.

Iwaizumi’s face was so close that Oikawa could feel his lips brushing against his own when he spoke. “We’re going to be fine. Tooru.” Iwaizumi tilted his head forward, until his forehead met Oikawa’s. “This is my fault. I should’ve said something sooner, I just didn’t know how, so I put it off, and then I put it off again”—his voice was becoming thicker, heavier with emotion—“and then it came to this, and at first I was sure you’d left, because who would put up with that bullshit for two days, but when you came back I was so happy and I just—” He stopped himself and took a breath. He gave a sad smile and said with a sort of laugh, “I’m rambling, aren’t I.”

Oikawa shook his head soundlessly, the words stuck in his throat, captured by the promise of tears if he opened his mouth again. 

Iwaizumi gave another soft laugh. “You’re right. I think I _do_ worry too much.” He gave Tooru a pained look. “Sometimes I forget you’re your own person, y’know. Sometimes I think you’re still a kid, that you still need me. But then other times I wonder how stupid I could’ve been to ever think you’d be able to be mature and grow up on your own, because you’ll always be that kid who never went to bed on time and ended up sleeping on his friend’s shoulder during lunch, or that kid that watched too many scary movies and ended up calling his friend in the middle of the night to cry about the monster in his closet, or that kid who could never cook and ended up eating his friend’s lunch on the days his parents couldn’t make his own.”

Oikawa gave a soft whine of “Iwa-chan,” but it wasn’t really a complaint.

“Don’t grow up, Tooru,” Iwaizumi whispered. “Please. Keep needing me. Because I need you.” And with that, he closed the last few millimeters between them to press their lips together.

  


* * *

  


“So,” Oikawa said, buttoning his shirt. “Why _were_ you mad in the first place?” He couldn’t help feeling incredibly happy—after all, the night before had gone much better than he’d thought it would. He’d even gotten a full night’s rest.

Iwaizumi hesitated across the room, where he was retying his tie. “It’s not important,” he mumbled, turning away. Oikawa gave a little laugh.

“Aw, is my Iwa-chan _blushing?_ C’mon, tell me!”

“I already said, it was just something stupid. I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’m sorry.”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“No! Shut up!”

“Tell me, _Hajime!_ Tell me, or I’ll keep bothering you! Tell me!”

Iwaizumi gave a growl of frustration and threw his tie at Oikawa, which might have been dramatic if it had made it more than halfway across the room. “It’s not even that big a deal! I said already, I just overreacted. It had nothing to do with you.”

Oikawa feigned offense. “Nothing to do with me? Then why was I at the end of your bad attitude, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi let out an exasperated groan. “Ok, fine. It…” his face turned surprisingly red, and he glanced away from Oikawa, mumbling his words. “It was Makki and Mattsun.”

“Eh?” Oikawa giggled. “Wait, _what?_ ”

“Don’t laugh!” Iwaizumi scowled, though it didn’t look very intimidating with his fiery blush. “You know how hard it is to resist their teasing. _All day._ It was horrible. And…”

“There’s more?” Oikawa laughed, tears in his eyes. “Please, go on, Hajime.”

“I didn’t know how to act.”

“Huh?” Oikawa’s smile dropped, and he gazed curiously at Iwaizumi. “What do you mean, ‘how to act’?”

“I mean, how to _act_. Around you. Because we said we wouldn’t be public about it, but I just…”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa positively _squealed_ , and was across the room in the space of a half-second, wrapping Iwaizumi in a hug.

“What!” Iwaizumi gasped as Oikawa tightened his grip.

“That’s so _cute_ ,” Oikawa whined, staring up at Iwaizumi with heavy-lidded eyes. “You should’ve just _told_ me, idiot.”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, glancing away, his cheeks still a bright crimson. “That’s the only time I’ll ever allow you to call me ‘idiot,’ you know.”

Oikawa let a giddy laugh escape his throat. “Ok, then,” he murmured. “I guess I’ll just keep calling you _Hajime_ , then.” The deepening of Iwaizumi’s blush didn’t escape Oikawa’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i'm so stressed i'm sorry this chapter's shit


	21. Kageyama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One quarterly left to go~ (but it's algebra 2, fml) Can I get a WHOOOOOOO!!!!
> 
> Also sorry there's so much dialogue in this chapter oml

“Nice serve, Oikawa!” a chorus of voices called. Letting out a slow breath, Oikawa focused all his concentration on the volleyball in his hand. _Toss it up. Step, step, step, jump. Where’s my hand? There. Where’s my target?_ His eyes flicked around. _There. Now…bam!_ His hand connected with the volleyball, and it felt right again. His gaze followed the ball in its path as it slammed into the gym floor on the other side of the court, right where he’d aimed it.

“Nice!” the voices called out, and the impact from the landing crept up Oikawa’s legs. Luckily his knee had stopped hurting after the night’s rest he’d given it, and for the first time since the accident he was actually playing at his best. Of course, it was only a practice match against Karasuno, but it still made him feel more confident in the way he was able to help the team.

“One more!” someone yelled out, and Oikawa caught the volleyball that was rolled back under the net. He spun it in his hands a few times, preparing for other serve.

Things had turned out ok since the last time he’d come back to school. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had apologized over and over again, and he’d received a locker full of milk bread from the two of them. Iwaizumi had been talking to Oikawa in school again—though he was extremely awkward about it and therefore adorable as hell. Despite the fact that they were still keeping their relationship to themselves, the volleyball team seemed to know. _Not much of a surprise, considering Makki and Mattsun, though,_ Oikawa mused now, as his serve hit home once more and earned Seijou the winning point.

Of course, the team had been very subtle about it. Not nearly as annoying as the other third-years had been. Which Oikawa found oddly refreshing, and it almost made him want to disclose his and Iwaizumi’s relationship even more. But the fear of undesirable reactions they might get kept him from opening his mouth.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Oikawa heard, and he glanced around to see that he was being addressed. On the other side of the net, Kageyama stood. 

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa replied teasingly, holding out his hand to shake. Kageyama took it slowly, as if as an afterthought, with a slightly confused look on his face. Oikawa couldn’t help but laugh at the expression. “What is it? Are you so surprised that you lost?”

“No,” Kageyama replied quickly, “I mean, no, we’ll beat you next time”—his words sounded puzzled almost, and uncertain—“but, uh…I wanted to ask you something. I mean, I just wanted to…” he trailed off, then finished vaguely, “ask you something.”

Oikawa pulled his hand from Kageyama's, who’d been continuously shaking it robotically as he spoke. “Um, ok,” Oikawa said hesitantly, not sure what to expect. “So, ask.” He couldn’t help feeling a small burst of superiority over the younger boy. _But he’s acting weird…_

“Uh,” Kageyama started almost reluctantly, before glancing around the gym. “Actually, could we maybe go…somewhere else?”

“Eh?” Oikawa let the sound drag lazily through his throat. “Is it that important?” His peripheral vision caught sight of Iwaizumi sending him a questioning glance from the other side of the gym, and Oikawa sent a little wave of dismissal in his direction. Iwaizumi stuck out his tongue at Oikawa before turning to help the other teammates clean up the gym.

“Yeah,” Kageyama’s voice brought Oikawa’s attention back to the younger boy, “It’s just…it is. Really important, that is. I, um…I didn’t know who else to talk to, so I figured…um…”

“Ok,” Oikawa interrupted exasperatedly, “Let’s go outside—and then you better stop stalling. It’s annoying.”

“Ok,” Kageyama echoed, obediently following Oikawa as he made his way across the gym and out the gym door, where the late sun cast an orange glow over the scenery. 

Oikawa leaned up against the wall next to the door they’d just exited. “So?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly. Kageyama’s eyes flicked from side to side, before reluctantly raising to meet Oikawa’s.

“I just…I need some advice. And I thought…you’d be the best person to ask, since…well…”

Oikawa dramatically leaned his head back and feigned snoring.

“Ok, ok, I’m getting to it!” Kageyama scowled, and Oikawa half-opened one eye to watch the almost comical way the genius setter was acting. “So, basically, there’s…” he reddened and glanced away for a moment, before taking a breath and speeding through his next sentence: “There’s someone I like and I’m not sure if they like me back and I don’t know what to do around them and I thought I’d ask you because you’ve probably been through the same thing and no one else would—”

“Slow down!” Oikawa interrupted, holding his hands up as if to protect himself from the onslaught of words. “Ok, so you like someone. Great, good for you. What do I have to do with it?”

Kageyama’s cheeks were crimson now. “Well…the person I like…is on my team, and I don’t know how to—”

“It’s Shrimpy, isn’t it,” Oikawa smirked.

The genius’s eyes widened comically. “H-How did you—?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Tobio-chan, I’m not as dense as most people. I’m actually surprised Shrimpy doesn’t know. You were so obvious during the match.”

“W-Was I really?” Kageyama seemed embarrassed now. _Not really, but what the hell. It’s fun to tease you._ Oikawa laughed inwardly at the younger boy’s pained expression.

“Anyway,” he sighed. “Why am I involved, again? I don’t see the connection to me.”

“Because,” he answered defensively, “You—you’ve been through the same thing, haven’t you?”

“What?” Oikawa felt his own pulse speed up slightly, but he kept his face and voice composed. “What are you talking about?”

Kageyama continued talking, gaining confidence with every word. “Back in middle school—well, it was obvious how much you and Iwaizumi-san were into each other, so it figures that you’d have gotten together at some point, and that you’d know how to separate your personal lives from volleyball, because for me it’s not really working and I just—” His voice cut off when he caught sight of Oikawa’s dangerous expression. “Well, um, I just…” _Where’d all that confidence go, genius setter?_

“Don’t assume things about other people,” Oikawa said, his tone lilting but his voice as cold and hard as steel. _I kept listening because it was entertaining to see him so uncomfortable, but I really shouldn’t have stayed…now the tables are turned, fuck, I’m going to say something and mess it all up. Shit. Screw you, Kageyama, always ruining everything._ “Now, if you don’t mind,” Oikawa hissed, moving away from the wall to reenter the gym door, “I’m going to help clean up.”

“Wait!” Kageyama called out, reaching out a hand to grip Oikawa’s wrist. The brunet setter instantly recoiled from the touch, spinning to give Kageyama a glare when he wasn’t released. “Oikawa-san,” Kageyama said quietly, “I really don’t know what to do…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…offend you, or anything, but I just really need…I really need some advice.”

Not even the thought of his superiority to the younger boy made Oikawa feel obligated to stay and listen. “Then get your advice from someone else,” he growled, trying to twist his wrist from Kageyama’s cold and nervous grip.

“P—” Kageyama started hesitantly, then screwed his eyes shut and said, “P-Please!”

Oikawa had to stop at this, and reevaluate the boy in front of him. “You…you’re actually serious?” Oikawa let a slightly condescending tone drift into his voice. “You’re actually… _begging_ …for me to give you advice?” Kageyama nodded, his eyes still shut and his face still red. Oikawa let out a little laugh, pulling his arm away from the grip of the other boy, who in turn let his hand drop as well. “Ok.”

The raven glanced up, eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait…really?” he asked breathlessly.

“Sure, sure,” Oikawa grinned, waving a hand in the air. “After all, you’re still my kouhai, aren’t you? Maybe I’ll help you out…if you call me ‘Oikawa-senpai’ and give me enough money for a month’s supply of lunches. I’d make you buy them for me, but you don’t go to my school. Obviously.” He narrowed his eyes before adding, “And also. If you mention anything about me and Haj—Iwa-chan,” he quickly corrected his mistake, his heart beating in his throat, “If you say anything about us again, I will personally reveal to your entire team that you had to come begging to me for relationship advice. Got it?”

The other setter gave a hesitant nod, his eyes still wide. “Y-Yeah,” he agreed softly, then asked, “So about the advi—”

“After the payment, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa cut in, “And then I need your phone number. I need information about your relationship with Shrimpy thus far. I’m not going to give out half-assed, generic advice. Got it?” he repeated.

Again, Kageyama responded with a nod. “Yeah, makes sense,” he muttered, “Your phone’s in the locker room, though, isn’t it? And how do I pay you—?”

Oikawa sighed. “Calm down, ok? Meet me at the sushi place in the center of town on…” he thought for a bit. _Today’s Wednesday, so…_ “Saturday,” he decided. “Let’s keep it simple—at noon. ‘Kay?”

“Ok,” Kageyama replied without hesitation this time. “And, um…thank you, Oikawa-sa—senpai,” he corrected himself, his gaze escaping contact for a moment.

“Mm, all for my very special kouhai~!” Oikawa sang, continuing in his mind, _whom I hate very much~!_ “It’s worth it for the payment, though,” he muttered half to himself, turning to reenter the gym. “Well, see you Saturday. Bye.” He could hear Kageyama’s sneakers on the gym floor behind him, but the raven didn’t speak again. The footsteps changed direction and headed to the locker room, and Oikawa kept walking to where his teammates were just finishing putting everything away.

_What the hell did I just get myself into?_ Oikawa wondered as he walked. _Why do I want to help out that idiot genius? Why do I even care?_ Even as he questioned himself, he already knew the answer. _I don’t. I don’t care at all. I just agreed to it because he mentioned Hajime, and I didn’t know how to respond…if I’d said no again, I’m sure he would’ve brought it up again…and then I would’ve been really screwed._ He started to rethink their conversation. _I did slip up on the name…I almost said ‘Hajime’ at one point…did Tobio-chan catch that? Does he already know anyway? He seemed to be pretty confident when he said it…was it that obvious, back in middle school? My team now even said we were obvious…_

As his mind wandered, he finally reached the edge of the gym, where Seijou was closing the doors to the storage closet with a familiar sound that made Oikawa’s stomach jolt. “Ok,” he heard Iwaizumi’s voice say, “Good work…let’s head back to the locker rooms, ok?”

“Ok,” the team responded in unison, and began filtering out of the gym. Oikawa waited until they passed, then he smiled at Iwaizumi, who was still leaning against the closet door.

“Hajime,” Oikawa said softly, loving the way the name danced on his tongue. 

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi replied, a smile pulling at his lips and a light in his eyes that almost matched the fluttering feeling in Oikawa’s chest. At the unspoken invitation, Oikawa closed the space between them and pushed his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair, holding the sides of his head. He felt Iwaizumi’s hands gripping his waist, the fingers warm and comforting over the fabric of his shirt.

“I missed you,” Oikawa whispered softly against Iwaizumi’s cheek.

“I’ve been right here,” Iwaizumi murmured back, though his tone held such a longing that Oikawa knew he felt the same way. Oikawa let his eyelids fall heavy over his gaze, leaning forward to catch Iwaizumi’s lips in a chaste yet soft kiss. He felt the spiker’s hands twitch against his skin when he pulled away.

“So,” Iwaizumi said, his voice quiet and his words soft. “What did Kageyama want?” His exhales against Oikawa’s lips made the setter want to kiss him again, but he restrained himself in order to answer the question.

“Relationship advice,” Oikawa half-laughed, the sound bubbling up giddily in his chest. “Can you believe it? And with Shrimpy, of all people.”

“Eh?” Iwaizumi questioned uninterestedly, “And did you give it to him?”

“I will,” Oikawa breathed, leaning forward again.

Iwaizumi tilted his face away before their lips could meet again, a shocked look in his gray eyes. “Wait, really? You, Oikawa Tooru, are actually going to help out your arch nemesis, Kageyama Tobio?”

Oikawa whined as Iwaizumi kept moving his head away. “Yes, yes, and don’t say ‘arch nemesis,’ you make it sound so stupid.”

“ _You’re_ stupid,” Iwaizumi replied without hesitation, though his voice was endearing. “And what do you mean, you _will?_ ”

“Jeez, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa groaned, the old nickname coming back in his plea for attention as Iwaizumi kept avoiding his kiss. “I’m going to meet him this Saturday. However much I hate him, I’m not going to just give out advice without knowing the situation as it is. I’m not an idiot. Besides, he’s paying me for it.”

Iwaizumi sighed, his breath hot against Oikawa’s cheek. “You’re such an asshole,” he murmured, but Oikawa didn’t miss the light of amusement in those gray eyes.

“But you love me,” he grinned back, and Iwaizumi finally leaned in to initiate the next kiss. And that was really answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look ma, i finally wrote a chapter longer than 2k words
> 
> (I totally stole that "look ma" thing from catpoop, who by the way is an amazing author and you should go read all their works and if you're a fan of ONS [Owari no Seraph, not one-night-stands. I know it's easy to confuse them. XD] then catpoop is the lord and ruler of all GureShin fics so go read them all)


	22. Knot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarterlies are finally over, author-san is back in business (even tho i kept writing instead of studying anyway)~~
> 
> Also I have no idea where I'm going with this story someone send help
> 
> Also I don't really want to end it at all. It's become my entire existence.

Iwaizumi flicked off the lights, engulfing the room in darkness. There was a moment of tense silence, and then Oikawa heard him softly say, “…Tooru?”

“Yeah?” Oikawa replied, his throat dry.

“You ok?” Iwaizumi leaned back into the bed and shifted into a more comfortable position. Oikawa shut his eyes as he breathed slowly, relishing the way his heartbeat stayed steady.

“I’m actually just fine,” he answered thoughtfully, an undertone of surprise making its way into his voice. Iwaizumi chuckled lightly, and Oikawa felt the spiker drape an arm across his shoulders. He leaned into the touch, allowing himself to give into Iwaizumi’s comfort.

“Good,” Iwaizumi breathed. “Good night, Tooru.”

Oikawa inhaled deeply before replying, “Good night, Hajime.” It wasn’t long until he drifted off to sleep—a deep and dreamless sleep.

  


* * *

  


Oikawa sighed against the warmth of Iwaizumi’s skin, nuzzling his face against the softness at the side of his boyfriend’s neck. Iwaizumi shifted, and Oikawa took the exhale that escaped the shorter brunet’s mouth in a puff of air as an invitation for a kiss. “Tooru,” Iwaizumi mumbled sleepily once Oikawa pulled away, the covers over them blocking the hazy dawn light that filtered through the window. “We have to go to morning practice.”

“I know,” Oikawa replied, sliding his legs around Iwaizumi’s to bring the other boy closer. Despite Iwaizumi’s words, Oikawa felt the brunet’s arms tighten around his own waist. Oikawa leaned into the touch, breathing hotly down Iwaizumi’s bare neck. The spiker let out a soft, barely audible moan that would’ve fallen through the mattress below them unheard if not for how close Oikawa was to Iwaizumi’s lips. “Just a little longer,” Oikawa breathed, drawing his lips across Iwaizumi’s neck to plant a kiss on the underside of his jaw. He sucked lightly, earning another slightly louder moan from his boyfriend.

“Stop,” Iwaizumi whispered, “We’re going to be late.” Oikawa slid a hand around Iwaizumi’s bare back, running his fingers lightly across the soft skin, which was pulled taut by the hard muscle beneath it.

“That’s fine,” Oikawa murmured, his hips rolling as Iwaizumi’s hands slid down from his waist. They gripped Oikawa’s hips over his shorts and the setter let out a huff of air, a smile pulling at his lips. “Hajime,” he sighed, sliding his hand down Iwaizumi’s back until his fingers were resting just above the waistline of the other brunet’s shorts.

“We’re going to be late,” Iwaizumi repeated breathlessly. Oikawa realized that he loved this glazed-over look in Iwaizumi’s eyes, with the dull dawn light reflecting off the gray irises and the atmosphere making them glow in a strange way.

“I love you, Hajime,” Oikawa mumbled around his tongue as he traced out Iwaizumi’s lips before kissing them fully. He moaned into Iwaizumi’s mouth as the spiker’s tongue immediately entered his, curling around Oikawa’s own tongue and sending bursts of pleasure to his brain. Oikawa went light-headed for a moment, a ring of darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision until he had to break from the kiss to drag air back into his lungs. Iwaizumi’s eyes were half-lidded, their lashes dipping over the beautiful silvery color that they showed in this light. He was panting as well, a thin string of saliva wet against his chin.

“T-Tooru,” he managed, blinking slowly. Oikawa felt the heat radiating from his own face, and wondered what he looked like. _Do I look as adorable as Hajime? Do I look as lost, as vulnerable, as powerless as him?_ “I-I love you,” Iwaizumi murmured, his eyes glowing. _Ah…he’s not lost. He’s confident in himself, in his words._ Oikawa felt a giddy pressure in his chest that made him want to laugh and cry with joy and kiss Iwaizumi all over again.

Oikawa leaned forward again, wrapping Iwaizumi in a hug. “Hajime,” he breathed, and he didn’t care that the tears were stinging at his eyes or that his arms were trembling or that his breath was stuttering in his chest because Iwaizumi was hugging him back and whispering soothing words into his ear and rubbing comfort into his back, and that made everything just fine.

“It’s ok,” Iwaizumi mouthed, his breath hot against Oikawa’s ear, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re fine. You won’t be alone again, Tooru. Believe me.” Oikawa’s breath hitched as he fought off a sob, and he quickly calmed his breathing again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, leaning his wet cheek against the side of Iwaizumi’s neck. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Iwaizumi said back, his words soft and quiet, “idiot.” Oikawa breathed against him for a while, until he was able to match Iwaizumi’s calm inhales and exhales. The silence drew out, but it didn’t feel like an empty silence—there were emotions, feelings to fill the silence, almost overflowing to the point where no words could fit. Oikawa tried to ignore the slow yet obvious brightening of the sun through the window, but when the alarm on the clock went off for the second time that morning he knew the mood had been ruined.

“Guess we’re really going to be late now,” Iwaizumi muttered quietly, craning his neck to look at the clock. “Actually, we’re only fifteen minutes behind.”

Oikawa refused to let go of Iwaizumi, only tightening his limbs around the other boy even more. “Make it fifteen more minutes, then,” he mumbled into Iwaizumi’s skin. The spiker laughed, the vibrations rumbling against his throat and making Oikawa’s head buzz.

“You can’t miss morning practice all week,” he said, his tone knowing yet soft. 

“What’re they gonna do, kick me from the team?” Oikawa replied, his voice muffled as he placed tiny kisses up Iwaizumi’s neck in between his words. Iwaizumi let out a barely-audible hum as Oikawa reached his jaw again, nibbling gently on the same spot he’d been sucking at before. He didn’t miss the way Iwaizumi shifted slightly to lean his head back and expose more of his neck.

Iwaizumi sighed, and Oikawa wasn’t sure if it was subconscious or not. “We’re really going to have to leave soon,” he murmured, though his voice sounded distracted. “What would we tell the coach this time? You played fine the other day, you can’t say your knee was bothering you. And you’re making me miss practice, too—don’t forget that _I’m_ not captain, and I don’t get special privileges like missing practice time and time again _without_ being kicked from the team. And besides—”

Oikawa let out a groan. “Iwa- _chan_ , just shut up and kiss me.” He leaned forward to bring their lips together, but again Iwaizumi made that same move he had the other night, tilting his face away from the oncoming kiss.

“No, we actually have to go. Come on, get up.”

Oikawa moaned, clutching Iwaizumi as the spiker tried to sit up. “No, Hajime, stay with meeeee…it’s ok, we can come up with something, just a little longer…”

_“No.”_

“Hajimeeeeeeee!” Oikawa whined as Iwaizumi managed to sit up fully, dragging the covers off of them. “No, don’t leave!”

“It’s not leaving if you’re coming with me!” Iwaizumi frowned at Oikawa, scooting to the edge of the bed and struggling to stand with the taller brunet still wrapping his limbs around him. Oikawa hooked legs above Iwaizumi’s hips and tightened his arms around the brunet’s shoulders, pressing his lips to the crook of his neck.

“Hajimeeeee,” he moaned, muffling his words against Iwaizumi’s skin. He heard his boyfriend _tsk_ softly, and Oikawa felt Iwaizumi bring his arms around to hold Oikawa’s thighs, supporting him.

“You’re going to make us so late,” Iwaizumi muttered, beginning to walk carefully across the bedroom.

Oikawa let out a little laugh. “Hajime, you’re so strong…don’t drop me, ok?”

“No promises.”

“So mean!”

  


* * *

  


Hanamaki was already waiting outside impatiently when Oikawa and Iwaizumi finally burst out of the front door. He raised an eyebrow condescendingly, and there was a glint of annoyance in his eyes, but when he spoke it was in a neutral monotone. “I was about to go in and drag you two out of bed myself.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Oikawa panted, skipping across the driveway as he struggled to pull his sneaker over the heel of his foot. _I’ll tie the laces later._ “Hurry, let’s just go!” Hanamaki sighed, but didn’t say anything else as Iwaizumi took the lead, speed walking down the street.

“You didn’t have to wait for us, you know,” Iwaizumi called from the front, “We’re already twenty minutes late for morning practice. Did Mattsun leave yet?”

Hanamaki was frowning at his phone. “Yeah…he didn’t want to be late. So we’re just going straight to the school.” He sighed and slid the phone in his pocket. “Anyway, why were you guys so late? Stay up for too long last night?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but it was more light-hearted than cruel.

“We just overslept,” Oikawa offered, grumbling as he re-checked his bag to make sure he had everything. “Agh!” he wailed suddenly, “I forgot my phone again!”

“Forget it!” Iwaizumi called back, “We’re too late already. Besides, you don’t need it.”

“B-But, Hajime!” Oikawa whined. “I need my phone! How else am I going to—”

“You’ll be _fine_ ,” Iwaizumi answered, exasperated. “It’s only for one day, I’m sure you can manage.” 

Oikawa let out a dissatisfied _hmph,_ but didn’t argue. There was a brief moment of silence, and then Hanamaki casually inquired, “So you guys are on a first-name basis now?”

“Don’t,” Oikawa groaned, tugging a hand through his hair in frustration, “Not today, Makki. Not today.” Hanamaki nodded, face carefully blank, and the lack of words between the three drew out. It lasted until they finally reached the school, and caught sight of the volleyball team already jogging around campus.

“Drop your stuff here!” Hanamaki hissed, “If we join them now, the coach will never know we were late. We can come back and get our bags once practice ends.” He stuck his bag under a bench near the entrance, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa followed suit, whispering, _‘Genius’_ in hushed tones as if the coach would hear them.

“Hurry up!” Iwaizumi beckoned, carefully glancing around for any sign of the coach before sprinting across to join the team. Hanamaki and Oikawa quickly followed suit. Oikawa felt the strange uncomfortable looseness of his sneakers, glancing down too late as he remembered that he hadn’t tied the laces. _Oh, crap,_ he was thinking, even as he watched the path of his left foot inevitably land on the lace of his right sneaker, and he was unable to stop his momentum as his right leg struggled to lift and—

“Makki!” Oikawa yelped as he lost his balance, his weight taking him forward and careening him into the other third-year, who let out an _‘oomf!’_ as they both tumbled to the ground. It was a chaotic swirl of elbows and knees and hard-packed earth, as Oikawa somehow managed to knock every joint of his into one of Hanamaki’s, but eventually they stopped rolling and came to a stop.

There was a strange ringing in Oikawa’s ears as he panted, laying on his back, holding his hand over his forehead and bending his right knee as if to make sure it still worked. Hanamaki was beside him, wheezing with what sounded like out-of-breath laughter. _Either that or he’s actually dying,_ Oikawa thought in alarm, craning his neck to look at Hanamaki—who seemed to be fine, sitting up and shaking the dust out of his hair.

“Are you ok?” Oikawa gasped out, hearing Iwaizumi’s shocked _‘Tooru!’_ in the distance. He raised his hand off his forehead, waving weakly to the spiker, who’d begun to run back to the two on the ground. The ringing of his ears was quickly fading away.

“I’m fine,” Hanamaki wheezed, holding his chest, a wide grin on his face. “Are—are _you_ ok?”

Oikawa groaned in response. “I forgot to tie my shoelaces,” he mumbled, lifting his head off of the ground to look at the offending laces. The two on his left shoe were draped loosely on either side of the sneaker, but his right shoe had one ridiculously long side of the lace that had been yanked out when he’d stepped on it, paired with one equally ridiculous short side that almost disappeared among the crisscrossing pattern that the laces were twisted into. 

Hanamaki finally caught his breath, only to let out a bout of laughter. “Oh, my God!” he gasped again and again, “Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”

Iwaizumi finally caught up to them. Oikawa noticed a few other teammates had seen the commotion and were approaching as well. “Tooru!” Iwaizumi panted, his shoes skidding across the dirt as he slid to a stop, immediately dropping to his knees beside the setter. “Are you ok, what happened?”

Oikawa leaned his head back against the dirt, struggling to draw in full breaths of air while Hanamaki dissolved into laughter beside him. Oikawa waved a hand vaguely at his right foot, where the mutinous shoelaces hung unevenly. Iwaizumi frowned. “You…actually tripped on your shoelace?”

Oikawa reached down, grasping for Iwaizumi’s hand. “Hajime…if I die…” he panted dramatically.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi sighed, extracting his hand from Oikawa’s grip and moving to readjust his laces, tying them tightly on each sneaker.

“What would I do without you,” Oikawa sighed, holding out a hand again—which Iwaizumi took this time—and letting out a soft groan of pain as he sat up, his muscles and joints aching where they’d hit either the ground or one of the sharp edges of Hanamaki’s body. He rubbed his ribs, in between which he distinctly remembered getting a knee to amidst the rolling.

Oikawa’s peripheral vision caught a few teammates—the only few who had apparently cared enough to jog over to the two wheezing third-years on the ground—as he turned to Hanamaki. “You sure you’re ok?” Oikawa asked him again, cautiously and with a not-completely-mock-concerned undertone as the other kept laughing.

“I’m—I’m good,” Hanamaki gasped, wiping a finger under his eyes. “That was—that was just hilarious, oh, God—” He broke down into a fit of giggles again. Oikawa turned back to Iwaizumi, raising an eyebrow, and the spiker just shrugged and sighed.

Oikawa’s gaze strayed over his boyfriend’s shoulder, where he looked at the underclassmen who were approaching them, and then he stiffened as he caught sight of something else. “What’s wrong?” Iwaizumi asked, turning to follow Oikawa’s gaze. Then he went rigid as well as he laid eyes on the angrily speed-walking coach.

“Ah, well…I guess we will get in trouble for being late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gravity is everyone's enemy


	23. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey guys, sorry it's been forever since I've updated this fic...anyway, I'm taking a short break from this story to figure out what the fuck I want to do with this plot line, 'cause it's sort of gotten out of hand. I'm focusing on a few other stories at the moment, so I won't be totally out of it, but it just might be a while until I update this particular fic again. Don't worry, I'm not going to drop it entirely, I just want to figure out where I'm going from here, ok? Sorry again!

Sincerely,   
mirror_cannibal


End file.
